MOTJIT     HOPE; 


OR, 


PHILIP, 


KING     OF    THE    WAMPANOAGS 


AN   HISTORICAL  ROMANCE 


0     H. 


«  Where  by  my  side,  in  battle  true, 
A  thousand  warriors  drew  the  shaft." 
CAMPBELL. 


NEW-YORK: 

HARPER    &    BROTHERS. 

1851 . 


ENTERED,  ACCORDING  TO  ACT  OF  CONGRESS,  IN  THE  YEAR  1350,  BY 

G.    H.    HOLL1STER, 
IN  THE  CLERK'S  OFFICE  OF  THE  DISTRICT  COURT  OF  CONNECTICUT. 


FOUNDRY  OF 

S.    ANDRTJS   AND   SON, 

HARTFORD. 


-t  t?o 
HC 


TO    THE 

HOK.   KOGER    H.   MILLS, 

THIS     WORK 

IS      BESPECTFTJLIY      DEDICATED, 
BY     HIS 

OBLIGED   AND   SINCERE   FRIEND, 

THE    AUTHOR. 


INTRODUCTION. 


WHOEVER  has  had  the  good  fortune  to  sail  along  the  coast 
of  Massachusetts,  Rhode  Island,  and  Connecticut,  during  the 
months  of  early  summer,  among  bays  clustering  with  islands 
and  crowned  with  bold  headlands,  has  lingered,  if  he  has  an 
eye  or  a  soul  for  the  beauties  of  nature,  upon  many  a  spot 
rich  in  the  associations  of  years  long  past,  of  races  of  men 
long  swept  from  the  face  of  the  earth,  who  had  thoughts  as 
varied,  objects  of  ambition  as  eagerly  sought,  and  passions  a 
thousand-fold  more  tempestuous,  than  those  of  their  conquerors. 
It  is  the  object  of  this  work  to  retrace  some  of  the  faded  and 
now  scarcely-visible  features  of  those  exterminating  wars  that 
marked  the  early  settlement  of  the  English  among  the  aborigines 
of  what  is  now  called  New  England;  placing  in  the  fore-ground 
of  the  picture  a  few  of  those  prominent  and  leading  characters 
who  appear,  when  seen  through  the  distant  medium  of  history, 
almost  as  fabulous  as  the  fictions  of  poets  or  the  creations  of 
an  early  mythology. 

Litchfield,  Conn.,  January,  1851. 
1* 


MOUNT     HOPE; 

OR, 

PHILIP,   KING    OF   THE  WAMPANOAGS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

"Thy  twinkling  maize-fields  rustled  on  the  shore."— BRYANT. 

IN  that  lovely  archipelago  of  waters  that  extends  to  the 
south  and  east  of  the  city  of  Providence,  lying  between 
two  bays  as  bright  as  ever  turned  their  waves  to  the  sun, 
is  a  small  neck  of  land,  called,  at  the  period  of  which  we 
write,  Pokanoket,  or  "the  woods  beyond  the  waters."  The 
north  portion  is  low,  and  in  many  places  interspersed  with 
formidable  swamps,  while  the  south-eastern  point  rises  into 
a  bold  headland  of  white  flint-rock,  the  summit  of  which, 
commands  a  view  both  of  land  and  water  for  many  miles 
around.  It  is  a  spot  sacred  to  the  eye  of  many  a  traveller, 
and  one  that  will  be  sought  out  through  long  journeys  by 
various  pilgrims  to  the  end  of  time  as  the  birth-place  of 
true  genius,  a  place  consecrated  by  human  suffering,  and 
immortalized  by  heroic  valour. 

On  the  evening  of  the  15th  of  June,  1675,  there  stood 
upon  the  rock  that  thus  formed  a  sort  of  tower  to  the  sum 
mit  of  this  mountain,  a  solitary  Indian,  of  appearance  and 
feature  so  unlike  that  of  all  other  aborigines  of  that  period, 
that  we  shall  venture  upon  giving  a  personal  description. 
The  chieftain — for  such  he  seemed — was  formed  alike 


OUNT     HOPE 


for  strength  or  activity,  of  a  graceful  figure  and  exquisitely 
moulded  limbs.  Although  the  high  cheek  bones,  as  well 
as  the  angular  mouth  and  chin,  betokened  the  son  of  the 
North  American  forest,  yet  there  was  in  his  face  nothing 
of  the  eager,  and  yet  suspicious  expression,  indicative  of 
low  cunning,  or,  at  best,  of  the  exercise  only  of  those 
mental  qualities  that  more  readily  act  in  obedience  to  the 
passions,  which  most  historians  have  supposed  to  belong  to 
that  race  of  men ;  but  the  face  bore  more  of  the  marks  of 
intellect,  forecast,  and  a  firm,  immoveable  purpose,  than  of 
the  characteristics  commonly  attributed  to  savages.  This 
was  strongly  indicated  not  only  by  the  breadth  and  height 
of  the  forehead,  which  was  always  observed  by  the  English 
whenever  he  appeared  at  their  courts  or  assemblies — but 
also  by  the  full,  dark  eye,  that  was  on  ordinary  occasions 
steady  in  its  glance  as  the  eagle's  whose  plumage  he  wore, 
but  which  now  flashed  fiercely,  as  if  kindling  with  the 
recollection  of  some  deep-seated  wrong,  and  which  gave 
to  a  face  otherwise  of  a  majestic  and  kingly  beauty,  a 
painful  and  agitated  expression.  Never  was  that  peculiar 
formation  of  the  head,  and  that  proud  moulding  of  the  fea 
tures  which  are  supposed  to  be  the  marks  of  pure  blood 
and  high  lineage,  more  faithfully  delineated ;  nor  was  it 
possible  that  the  human  countenance  should  express  a 
greater  variety  of  endowments.  He  seemed  formed  alike 
for  thought  or  action — a  stern  lawgiver  or  a  swift  avenger 
— but  in  either  capacity  a  king. 

The  dress  of  this  elegant  savage  was  in  perfect  keeping 
with  his  appearance  and  bearing.  He  wore  a  light  coat 
of  beaver-skin,  decorated  with  blue  and  white  beads,  curi 
ously  wrought  into  a  great  variety  of  ornaments ;  buskins 
of  deer-skin,  covered  with  small  sea-shells ;  while  a  narrow 
band  or  belt  of  wampum,  passing  around  the  head,  the 


MOUNT     HOPE.  9 

ends  of  which  extended  down  the  neck,  and  met  at  the 
shoulders,  and  which  was  surmounted  at  the  forehead  by 
the  plumes  of  the  gray-eagle,  completed  his  attire.  In  his 
right  hand  he  held  a  large  English  musket,  upon  which  he 
leaned  idly,  as  he  cast  his  eye  hurriedly  over  the  broad 
expanse  of  land  and  water  that  lay  at  his  feet.  It  was  his 
ancestral  domain,  the  country  that  had  known  no  other 
sway  beyond  that  of  the  long  line  of  sachems  whose  un 
written  history  dated  as  far  back  as  the  earliest  annals  of 
tradition,  hundreds  of  years  before  the  foot  of  the  European 
had  pressed  its  sod,  or  the  arm  of  labour  had  tamed  its 
luxuriant  wilds.  Nor  had  civilization  yet  made  any  con 
siderable  inroads  upon  its  solitudes.  Not  a  white  sail  was 
visible  in  the  bay,  now  called  the  Bay  of  Providence,  and 
Mount  Hope  bay  bore  upon  its  bosom  many  a  light  canoe, 
flitting  gayly  across  the  waves,  freighted  with  dusky  forms. 
Unbroken  woods,  their  shades  now  deepening  with  the 
approach  of  evening,  covered  every  hill  and  valley ;  and 
the  slender  columns  of  smoke  that  rose  here  and  there 
above  the  trees,  ascended  only  from  the  wigwam  or  coun 
cil-fire  of  the  Wampanoags. 

Whatever  might  have  been  the  nature  of  his  thoughts, 
the  chief  was  soon  interrupted  by  the  approach  of  two 
visiters.  Just  emerging  from  the  shade  of  a  wild  grape 
vine  of  immense  size,  that  stood  at  an  angle  of  the  steep 
and  winding  pathway,  and  rolled  its  black  coils  like  the 
folds  of  an  enormous  serpent  around  the  trunk  and  branches 
of  a  linden-tree,  appeared  a  beautiful  young  Indian  woman, 
leading  by  the  hand  a  slightly-formed,  dark-eyed  boy,  of 
about  ten  years  of  age.  Nothing  could  surpass  the  perfect 
grace  and  ease  with  which  this  lovely  female  apparition 
glided  along  the  tangled  and  difficult  path ;  now  turning  to 
speak  a  word  of  encouragement  to  the  child,  now  removing 


10  MOUNT     HOPE. 

from  his  way  with  maternal  fondness — for  such  was  the 
relationship  she  sustained  toward  him — some  bush  or  sHrub, 
as  if  fearing  lest  a  briar  should  pierce  the  deer-skin  leggins 
that  protected  his  little  limbs,  or  even  the  tendrils  of  a  vine 
should  curl  itself  about  the  solitary  eagle's  feather  that 
decorated  his  jetty  hair.  Her  beauty  was  of  the  most  per- 
feet  aboriginal  mould,  the  figure  tall  and  slender,  the  feet 
and  hands  small,  and  the  eye  large  and  dark.  But  though 
the  long  braids  of  her  hair  were  intertwined  with  wild- 
flowers  of  colours  the  most  rare  and  gay ;  though  the  robe 
of  otter's  fur  that  hung  in  natural  drapery  about  her  form 
was  the  richest  within  the  limits  of  the  tribe,  and  though 
strings  of  violet  beads,  elaborated  from  the  most  rare  sea- 
shells,  which  none  but  a  queen  might  wear,  fell  in  graceful 
chains  from  her  neck,  and  nestled  in  her  bosom ;  yet  the 
face  was  too  sad  for  such  festive  decorations.  As  she 
stood  before  that  haughty  chieftain,  and  murmured  a 
response  to  his  welcome  ;  for  not  even  an  Indian  queen 
may  first  address  her  lord ;  her  drooping  head,  down-cast 
eye,  and  the  low  moaning  of  her  voice,  were  those  of  the 
mourning  dove,  when  bereft  of  her  young.  But  the  boy 
sprung  forward,  and  laid  his  little  hand  upon  the  sachem's 
gun,  as  if  he  would  have  wrested  it  from  his  grasp,  looking 
up  fiercely  into  his  face,  and  pointing  with  his  left  hand 
impatiently  to  the  north,  as  he  asked,  "Is  the  chief  of  the 
Wampanoags  ready  to  burn  the  wigwams,  and  bring  home 
the  scalps  of  the  pale-faces?"  Pometacom — for  that  was 
the  name  of  the  chief — resigned  the  musket  to  the  child, 
without  replying  to  his  interrogatory  ;  and  the  wife  and  the 
queen  who  had  always  shared  his  confidence,  and  was 
henceforth  to  share  with  him  the  relentless  malice  of  his 
enemies — the  innocent,  ill-starred  Woo-ke-nus-ke — awaited 
in  silence  the  mandates  of  her  king. 


MOUNTHOPE.  11 

"Queen  of  the  people  who  dwell  beyond  the  waters," 
said  the  chief,  "  dost  thou  see  the  clouds  settling  upon  the 
woods  of  Pocassett  ?" 

"  The  queen  beholds  dark  clouds  above  the  trees,  like  the 
frowns  of  Hobbomocko,  when  he  goes  forth  in  the  sky  to 
pierce  his  people  with  arrows  of  flint,"  replied  she,  casting 
her  eye  timidly  to  the  quarter  of  the  heavens  pointed  out 
by  the  chief;  and  then  added,  in  a  tone  of  still  deeper 
earnestness,  "have  the  sons  of  Pometacom  sinned,  and  shall 
they  not  burn  their  bows  and  their  wampum  to  the  god 
of  evil?" 

"  Woman !"  exclaimed  the  chief,  "  Hobbomocko  has  made 
his  wigwam  in  the  clouds ;  his  hand  is  red  with  blood ;  but 
the  Wampanoags  shall  carry  the  scalping-knife  by  his 
side.  The  pale-faces  shall  lie  beneath  the  grass  of  his 
hunting-grounds  before  the  frost  turns  the  leaves  yellow  in 
the  woods.  Hobbomocko  and  Pometacom  are  one  god." 

A  convulsive  shudder  shook  the  frame  of  the  fair  Indian 
queen,  as  she  replied,  "Many  moons  ago,  as  the  great  Mas- 
sasoit  lay  upon  his  mat,  and  made  ready  to  go  on  his  jour 
ney  to  the  place  of  the  Great  Spirit,  he  called  his  two  sons, 
Wamsutta  and  Pometacom,  to  his  side.  '  My  children,'  said 
the  chief,  in  a  feeble  voice,  'it  is  the  will  of  the  good 
Kritchtan  that  Massasoit  shall  visit  him  in  his  wigwam  in 
the  far  south-west.  He  will  leave  his  tribe,  his  captains,  and 
his  paniese,  with  his  sons,  and  cross  the  bright  lake  in  the 
spirit-canoe  to  the  cabin  of  the  Great  Spirit.  The  songs 
of  his  fathers  will  make  his  heart  glad,  but  his  bones  will 
lie  in  his  burial-ground  at  Pokanoket,  where  the  waters 
murmur  in  his  sleep.  Keep  peace,  my  sons,  with  the 
pale-faces.'  " 

During  this  recital,  Pometacom  became  more  and  more 
deeply  excited,  as  if  it  had  awakened  in  his  breast  new 


12  MOUNT     HOPE. 

incentives  to  revenge.  His  face  was  black  with  rage,  as 
he  replied,  vehemently,  "  Wamsutta  is  dead  ;  the  white 
man  killed  him.  Pometacom  will  be  avenged.  In  the  full 
of  the  moon  Pometacom  went  to  the  grave  of  Massasoit : 
the  dews  fell  on  his  mound ;  the  waters  slept  among  the 
pebbles  of  the  beach ;  the  wolf  howled  at  a  distance,  for  he 
feared  the  spirit  of  the  warrior ;  but  the  foot-prints  of  two 
pale-faces  were  upon  the  grass  that  grew  above  his  heart. 
The  son  of  Massasoit  will  be  avenged."  He  then  added, 
in  a  softer  tone,  but  with  the  most  grave  authority,  "  Go, 
Woo-ke-nus-ke,  to  the  rock  where  the  spring  bubbles  from 
the  ground.  Take  the  boy  by  the  hand,  and  go.  A  runner 
shall  lead  the  wife  and  son  of  Pometacom  to  the  country  of 
the  Narragansets ;  his  brother,  Conanchet  shall  hide  them 
in  the  wigwams  of  his  fort." 

With  an  Indian  woman,  to  hear  is  to  obey.  She  grasped 
the  arm  of  her  little  son,  waved  her  hand  in  silent  adieu, 
as  she  turned  the  winding  foot-path  that  was  to  hide  her 
from  the  view  of  her  haughty  sachem,  and  disappeared. 
The  chief  acknowledged  the  signal  by  a  corresponding 
gesture,  and  then  darted  like  an  arrow  into  the  recesses  of 
the  wilderness. 


MOUNT     HOPE.  13 


CHAPTER    II. 

"Sit  at  the  feet  of  History."—  The  Ages. 

To  form  any  thing  like  a  correct  opinion  of  the  causes 
which  led  to  the  war  with  which  our  story  is  inseparably 
connected,  requires  the  greatest  impartiality  of  judgment, 
as  well  as  a  minute  study  of  the  records  of  those  times. 
The  situation  of  both  parties  to  this  bloody  drama  was  of 
such  peculiar  delicacy ;  their  fears,  as  well  as  the  worst 
passions  of  their  natures,  were  wrought  upon  by  inciting 
causes  so  unhappy,  and  at  the  same  time  so  overpowering, 
that  our  sympathies  are  almost  equally  divided  between 
Civilization  reaching  forth  her  arm  to  take  possession  of  a 
soil  one  day  to  be  exclusively  her  own,  and  savage  life 
clinging  to  old  religious,  hereditary  forms,  the  bay  and  the 
river,  the  haunts  of  the  otter  and  the  beaver,  and,  more  than 
all,  the  burial-places  of  the  dead. 

The  English  population  of  New  England,  at  that  period, 
amounted  to  about  fifty-five  thousand;  the  aboriginal,  to 
less  than  one-half  that  number.  The  English  lived  in 
permanent  houses,  and  had  permanent  means  of  sub 
sistence  ;  the  Indians  had  nothing  but  perishable  wigwams 
of  bark  to  secure  them  from  the  inclemencies  of  the 
winds  and  snows  common  to  this  wild  region,  and  gained 
that  uncertain  livelihood  which  chance  throws  in  the 
way  of  improvident  savages,  who  have  no  commerce, 
and  no  methodical  system  of  agriculture.  One  party  was 


J  4  MOUNT     HOPE. 

armed  with  the  deadly  implements  of  European  warfare ; 
the  other,  for  the  most  part,  was  compelled  to  rely  upon 
the  bow  and  tomahawk.  There  is  a  difference,  too,  to 
be  observed  between  the  local  position  of  the  tribes  con 
cerned  in  that  bloody  conflict,  and  that  of  the  continental 
tribes  which  have  recently  fallen  in  so  unequal  a  struggle 
with  the  well-disciplined  forces  of  the  United  States.  The 
former  had  been  gradually  driven  into  narrow  necks  and 
peninsulas  bordering  upon  the  sea,  and,  if  they  failed  of 
victory,  must  be  utterly  annihilated;  the  latter  had  at  least 
a  way  open  for  retreat,  and  could  still  find  a  temporary 
refuge  in  lands  that  lay  towards  the  setting  sun. 

The  result  of  this  struggle,  therefore,  to  a  mind  dispas 
sionate  enough  to  weigh  probabilities,  could  not  have  been 
doubtful ;  but  to  the  excited  imaginations  of  the  colonists, 
what  was  then  called  Philip's  war,  was  most  appalling. 
The  isolated  planter  heard  the  expostulations  of  his  wife 
and  daughters  as  he  prepared  to  go  into  the  field,  and 
yielded  to  their  importunities ;  or,  if  he  ventured  to  so  forth, 
was  shot  down  and  scalped  in  the  furrow,  or  lighted  on  his 
return  at  evening  by  the  conflagration  of  his  own  dwelling. 
Superstition  also  lent  her  most  vivid  colours  to  the  picture. 
Not  a  deer  bounded  through  the  woods — not  a  bird  flut 
tered  over  their  heads — not  a  flash  of  lightning  glistened 
among  the  tree-tops  that  skirted  the  horizon — but  passed 
for  an  evil  omen. 

The  causes  of  the  war  have  been  imputed  to  either  party, 
as  suited  the  predilections  of  the  various  writers  who  have 
treated  of  it.  It  is  unfortunate  for  the  memory  of  the 
Indians  that  no  monuments  of  the  struggle,  or  the  circum 
stances  that  led  to  it,  have  been  preserved  to  us  beyond  the 
discordant  and  partial  records  of  their  victorious  enemies. 
.  It  is  certainly  true  that  the  English  had  contrived  to  get 


MOUNTHOPE.  15 

possession  of  the  most  valuable  lands  formerly  the  property 
of  the  Indians,  and  that  the  latter  could  never  fully  under 
stand  the  significance  and  efficacy  of  those  title-deeds  that 
had,  by  repeated  inroads,  so  encroached  on  their  corn-fields 
and  hunting-grounds  as  to  deprive  them  almost  of  the  neces 
sary  means  of  subsistence.  This  increased  their  hatred 
and  jealousy  of  the  whites  to  such  a  degree,  that  a  single 
spark  was  only  needed  to  kindle  into  a  flame  elements  so 
combustible. 

The  murder  of  John  Sausaman,  by  some  Wampanoag 
Indians,  led  to  the  equally  cruel,  though  legalized,  murder 
of  some  individuals  of  that  tribe,  among  whom  was  a  friend 
and  favourite  of  Philip.  This  was  the  immediate  cause  of 
hostilities,  which,  but  for  this,  might  have  been  deferred  for  a 
time,  but  which  must  sooner  or  later  have  been  unavoidable. 

Nothing  could  exceed  the  alarm  every  where  manifested 
among  the  English.  On  the  news  of  the  first  breaking  out 
of  the  war,  at  Swansey,  the  colonial  commissioners  met  at 
Boston.  Governor  Winthrop,  of  Connecticut,  one  of  the 
commissioners,  immediately  despatched  a  messenger  to 
Deputy-governor  Leete  and  the  council  at  Hartford,  and 
troops  were  sent  without  delay  to  Stonington,  as  the  point 
most  exposed  to  attack  in  Connecticut,  on  account  of  its 
proximity  to  the  Narragansets  and  other  tribes,  whose 
fidelity  to  the  English  began  to  be  doubted.  The  colony 
of  Plymouth  was  in  a  state  of  excitement  bordering  on 
phrensy ;  all  private  business  was  suspended,  in  the  bustle 
and  preparation  which  preceded  the  storm  about  to  burst 
upon  the  head  of  that  little  commonwealth. 

The  village  of  Plymouth,  built  upon  a  declivity  gently 
sloping  to  the  water,  presented,  at  that  time,  a  wild  and  pic 
turesque  appearance,  not  a  little  heightened  by  the  bewil 
dered  agitation  of  the  inhabitants.  In  the  rear  of  the  village 


lg  MOUNT     HOPE. 

towered  a  high  hill,  still  known  as  the  «  Burying-hill"— the 
place  consecrated  by  the  Puritan  adventurers  for  the  burial 
of  their  dead.  From  the  summit  of  this  hill,  which  rises  to 
the  height  of  about  two  hundred  feet,  the  view  of  the  sur 
rounding  country  was  at  that  time  wild  beyond  comparison. 
In  the  back-ground  lay  an  elevated  plain,  covered  with 
pines  and  ever-greens;  to  the  north,  on  a  pleasant  hill, 
embowered  in  trees,  stood  an  old-fashioned-looking  mansion, 
where  Miles  Standish,  the  military  hero  of  the  colony,  lived 
and  died  ;  to  the  east  and  south,  stretched  the  broad  expanse 
of  Massachusetts  bay,  with  its  well-defined  southern  limit, 
the  peninsula  of  Cape  Cod.  On  the  morning  of  the  16th 
of  June,  the  summit  of  Burying-Jiill  presented  a  scene  of 
unusual  animation.  The-  whole  male  population  that  ten- 
anted  the  humble  houses'  which  stood  upon  the  hill-side, 
seemed  to  have  forsaken  their  homes,  and  betaken  them 
selves  to  the  summit  of  this  hill,  where  they  were  occupied, 
at  an  early  hour,  with  an  intensity  of  application  which 
plainly  indicated  the  progress  of  some  enterprise,  deemed 
by  all  the  parties  concerned  of  vital  importance  to  the 
interests  of  the  colony.  The  strong  palisades  already 
enclosed  an  area  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  square,  and  the 
work  looked  as  if  it  might,  when  completed,  withstand  the 
assaults  of  the  combined  savage  tribes  of  New  England. 
A  little  apart  from  the  rest  of  the  party,  upon  a  wooden 
bench  that,  had  been  placed  beneath  a  wide-branching  oak, 
sat  Governor  Winslow,  a  soldierly-looking  gentleman,  about 
forty-five  years  of  age,  punctiliously  dressed,  and  armed 
with  the  long  straight  sword  much  in  use  at  that  period. 
His  features  were  eminently  handsome,  and  there  was 
about  his  whole  appearance  an  air  of  refinement  that 
seemed  to  have  little  in  common  with  the  rough  forms  and 
faces  of  those  who  surrounded  him.  He  appeared  to  be  in 


MOTJNTHOPE.  17 

earnest  conversation  with  a  man  about  thirty-five  years  of 
age,  who  stood  with  his  head  uncovered,  probably  out  of 
respect  to  the  executive  presence. 

This  latter  personage  (then  and  still  known  by  the  title 
of  Captain  Church)  was  of  an  athletic  form,  full,  florid 
countenance,  and  light  brown  hair,  which  curled  in  thick 
clusters  around  a  forehead  that  seemed  to  have  more 
breadth  than  height.  His  large  gray  eye  had  that  happy 
expression  of  merry  good-humour,  and  careless  courage 
that  never  fails  to  attract  the  notice  of  a  stranger.  His 
dress,  though  neat,  was  perfectly  simple,  and  his  look  and 
manner  were  those  of  a  bold,  free-hearted  pioneer,  ready 
for  the  most  daring  adventure,  and  from  constitution,  as 
well  as  from  habits  of  exposure,  able  to  endure  the  worst 
extremes  of  the  elements.  The  conversation  between  the 
two  gentlemen  was  evidently,  from  the  tone  of  voice  and 
animated  looks  of  the  parties,  one  in  which  they  were 
deeply  interested,  and  upon  which  they  entertained  some 
difference  of  opinion. 

"  And  what  think  you,"  said  the  govenor — as  if  anxious 
to  draw  out  the  views  of  his  friend  upon  a  new  topic — 
"What  think  you  of  the  project  proposed  and  advocated 
by  some  of  the  leading  men  of  this  colony,  of  erecting  a 
fort  at  Mount  Hope  neck,  and  driving  the  Wampanoags 
from  their  own  ground]" 

"There  can  be  no  doubt,"  replied  Church,  "that  Philip 
is  determined  to  give  us  battle,  and  that  his  purpose  is  now 
settled,  never  to  lay  aside  his  arms  till  he  has  scalped  and 
tomahawked  every  man,  woman  and  child  in  the  English 
colonies.  To  speak  frankly,  I  never  thought  the  Plymouth 
colony  had  dealt  towards  this  Indian  in  a  politic  way  or 
with  entire  justice.  They  have  always  contrived  to  deter 
mine  against  him  all  actions  of  ejectment  and  other  suits 
2* 


18  MOUNT     HOPE. 

relating  to  the  title  and  possession  of  land,  when  he  was 
drawn  into  their  courts  by  any  one  of  the  colonists ;  and 
they  have  increased  his  jealousy  to  an  unreasonable  pitch, 
by  summoning  him  to  appear  at  Plymouth  on  slight  occa 
sions  and  ill-grounded  accusations,  when  they  knew  that 
he  could  not  acknowledge  the  authority  that  cited  him. 
Then  the  murder  of  Sausaman,  your  excellency,  was 
never  made  clear  to  my  mind ;  Philip  denies  that  he  or  his 
friends  knew  of  it,  or  took  part  in  it ;  and  professes  to  con 
sider  the  trial  and  execution  of  those  Indians  standing 
charged  therewith,  as  a  worse  murder  than  the  other. 
Now,  it  seems  to  me  that  a  fort  erected  on  the  Neck,  would 
only  make  him  more  implacable,  and  lay  open  to  him  our 
plan  for  the  campaign — a  thing  not  to  be  desired,  if  we 
are  to  have  an  easy  game  with  him.  And  besides,  an 
Indian  is  like  a  fox :  you  must  take  him  as  he  runs,  and 
even  then  you  may  chance  to  chase  him  over  many  a  hill 
and  down  many  a  steep  bank,  and  lie  with  your  musket 
cocked  behind  a  hundred  different  rocks  and  trees,  before 
you  shall  get  a  crack  at  him ;  and  then  it  will  go  hard  but 
the  beast  will  have  life  and  wind  enough  left  to  carry  him 
to  his  den.  You  may  build  a  fort  within  gun-shot  of  an 
Indian  camp ;  and  before  you  have  driven  down  half  your 
palisades,  the  enemy  is  away,  and  has  found  out  some  other 
swamp,  twenty  miles  distant,  with  cabins  to  shelter,  and 
corn  to  supply  every  son  and  daughter  of  his  tribe.  We 
must  hunt  them — if  your  excellency  will  trust  the  word  of 
a  man  who  has  tried  it  in  every  mode,  and  at  all  seasons  of 
the  year — we  must  hunt  them  through  swamp  and  thicket, 
upon  their  own  fresh  trails,  and,  if  possible,  when  there  are 
no  leaves  on  the  trees.  The  red-skins  will  scorn  your  forts, 
as  hungry  crows  do  the  old  hats  and  coats  that  stand  upon 
poles  in  our  corn-fields." 


MOUNT    HOPE.  19 

"  I  will  lay  your  views  before  the  General  Court,  and 
can  promise  for  them  a  fair  hearing  at  the  least,"  replied 
the  governor.  "But  is  there  no  chance  of  averting  this 
destructive  war?  Is  it  past  our  power  to  treat  with  this 
haughty-minded  savage  1  Can  no  terms  be  proposed,  no 
concessions  made  to  appease  him?" 

"I  much  doubt  me,  if  there  can,"  responded  the  other; 
"the  matter  has  proceeded  too  far  for  reconciliation.  Tester- 
day  I  was  at  Seconnet,  and  met  there  the  squaw-sachem 
Awashonks  by  her  own  appointment.  Six  of  Philip's  men 
were  with  her,  soliciting  aid  against  the  English,  with  their 
faces  painted  in  the  most  hideous  manner,  fully  attired  and 
equipped  for  war,  and  looking  fiercely  at  me,  as  if  they 
would  have  killed  me  for  rage,  because  Awashonks  had 
invited  me  to  the  dance.  Had  I  shown  a  sign  of  fear,  it 
might  have  gone  ill  with  me ;  but  I  stepped  quietly  up  to 
the  Mount  Hope  men,  and  taking  hold  of  their  bags,  and 
finding  them  filled  with  bullets,  asked  them  what  their 
bullets  were  for :  they  replied,  scoffingly,  '  To  shoot  pigeons 
with.'  I  thought  best  to  put  a  bold  face  on  the  matter,  and 
show  them  that  I  despised  their  threats.  I  advised  Awa 
shonks  in  their  presence  to  knock  them  on  the  head,  and 
make  an  end  of  them — a  piece  of  counsel  that  had  its 
effect,  for  they  were  as  quiet  as  dead  men  during  the  rest 
of  my  stay  there.  Our  conference  ended  by  her  desiring 
me  to  wait  on  your  excellency,  and  place  her  under  the 
protection  of  the  English.  This  state  of  things  cannot  last 
long,  and  I  have  little  doubt  the  rascals  will  be  scalping 
and  burning  us  ere  a  fortnight's  end." 

"I  too  am  of  the  same  opinion,  and  shall  lose  no  time  in 
mustering  the  colonial  troops,"  said  the  governor.  "  And 
what  sayest  thou,  my  friend?  Can  we  depend  on  your 
personal  attendance  and  cooperation  during  this  campaign  ?" 


20  MOUNT    HOPE. 

"  With  all  my  heart.  I  would  gladly  calm  the  mind  of 
Philip,  and  bring  him  to  terms  of  conference  and  alliance 
once  more,  if  such  a  thing  were  possible ;  but  that  day  is 
over.  He  is  proud  and  implacable,  and,  unless  I  have 
mistaken  my  man,  will  give  us  many  a  day  of  hard  fight 
ing  before  we  shall  be  rid  of  him.  But  I  must  take  my 
leave  of  your  excellency,  for  I  have  a  wife  and  a  home  to 
see  after  in  these  evil  times,  before  I  can  strike  a  blow  for 
the  commonwealth." 

"Go,  and  God  be  with  you!"  said  the  governor,  as  with 
a  hearty  shake  of  the  hand  he  bade  the  weather-beaten 
adventurer  adieu ;  who,  hastening  down  the  hill,  was  not 
long  in  reaching  the  spot  where  the  waters  of  the  bay 
rocked  the  impatient  pinnace,  which  only  waited  the 
weighed  anchor  and  spread  sail  to  bear  him  to  Seconnet. 

Winslow  stood  watching  him  till  the  diminished  form  of 
his  little  craft  looked  with  its  white  sail  like  a  bubble  upon 
the  waves,  and  muttered  to  himself,  as  he  walked  towards 
the  fort,  "  He  is  right,  he  is  right.  What  a  pity  our  wise 
ones  should  not  have  taken  his  advice,  and  made  peace 
with  this  vindictive  savage !  But  we  shall  see  what  will 
come  of  it." 

Scarcely  a  week  had  elapsed,  after  the  interview  just 
described,  before  the  first  blood  was  shed  in  that  most 
sanguinary  of  all  wars  that  stain  the  annals  of  civilization 
upon  this  continent.  As  the  inhabitants  of  Swansey  were 
returning  on  a  fast-day  from  religious  worship,  they  were 
waylaid  by  Philip's  men,  and  one  man  was  killed ;  two 
others  were  wounded. 


MOUNT-HOPE.  21 


CHAPTER   III. 


"A  springy  motion  in  her  gait 
A  rising  step  did  indicate 
Of  pride  and  joy  no  common  rate, 
That  flushed  her  spirit." 

CHARLES  LAMB. 


WHILE  the  participators  in  this  drama  are  making  ready 
each  the  part  which  he  is  to  play  in  it,  we  shall  be  pardoned 
for  asking  the  reader's  company  while  we  take  a  short 
leave  of  its  turbulent  scenes,  and  visit  one  of  those  quiet 
domestic  homes  that  made  even  the  face  of  the  wilderness 
lovely  in  the  olden  time. 

Not  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  spot  where  now  stands 
the  lovely  village  of  B ,  there  stood  at  that  day  a  com 
fortable-looking  cottage,  built  in  the  English  style,  upon  the 
southern  slope  of  a  mountain,  the  last  of  a  series  or  chain 
running  north-east  and  south-west  for  several  miles  through 
a  rich  and  populous  portion  of  the  commonwealth  of  Massa 
chusetts.  The  Bluff  (for  so  it  was  called)  was  densely 
wooded  with  oak,  chestnut  and  pine,  and  upon  the  side 
nearest  the  house  was  a  space  of  several  acres,  free  from 
any  entanglements  of  bushes  or  vines,  so  that  there  was 
nothing  except  the  gigantic  trunks  and  wide-spreading 
gnarled  branches  of  the  trees  to  intercept  the  view  towards 
the  north  from  the  cottage-windows. 

But  beyond  this  limited  space,  the  acclivity  was  more 
irregular  and  steep,  and  the  soil  seemed  abandoned  to  the 
wildest  luxuriance  of  vegetation.  Tall  broken  rocks 


22  MOTTNTHOPE. 

towered  above  the  trees,  with  many  a  rift  at  their  base, 
where  the  wolf  and  panther  found  a  safe  retreat  from  the 
pursuit  of  man. 

The  view  to  the  south  was  varied  and  beautifully  soft 
ened  by  the  graceful  slopes  of  the  hills,  which  bore  more 
of  the  appearance  of  long  and  ample  cultivation,  than 
seemed  to  belong  to  so  primitive  a  settlement.  From  the 
arbour  in  the  garden  that  lay  a  little  to  the  east  of  the 
cottage,  the  eye  caught  a  glance  of  the  village  spire  through 
the  screen  of  leaves  that  nature  had  thrown  around  it,  and 
the  western  landscape  was  relieved  by  a  sparkling  lake 
that  lay  like  a  winding  river  among  the  green  sloping  hills, 
reflecting  upon  its  bosom  every  feature  of  the  landscape 
with  the  faithfulness  of  a  mirror.  The  high  gable  wind 
ows  of  the  cottage,  and  the  little  gallery  that  extended 
along  its  front,  were  almost  hidden  by  the  red  and  white 
honeysuckle,  and  wild  American  vines  that  interlaced  their 
tenacious  fibres,  and  spread  their  delicate  leaves  from  the 
foundation  to  the  roof  of  the  secluded  mansion. 

It  would  be  readily  inferred  that  a  spot  so  well  chosen 
for  its  natural  advantages,  and  so  tastefully  decorated  by 
art,  must  be  the  home  of  refinement  and  elegance,  and 
such  it  really  was.  The  Rev.  Charles  Southworth,  the 
proprietor,  was  a  dissenting  clergyman,  a  gentleman  of 
family  and  superior  natural  endowments,  who  was  educated 
at  Emmanuel  College,  Cambridge,  and  would  have  grad 
uated  with  the  highest  honours,  had  he  not  refused,  from 
scruples  of  conscience  which  he  said  were  insuperable,  to 
subscribe  the  articles,  according  to  the  requirements  of  the 
University. 

Becoming  more  and  more  dissatisfied  with  what  he 
deemed  the  abuses  practiced  by  the  English  church  at  that 
period,  and  having  made  the  acquaintance  of  Governor 


MOUNT     HOPE.  23 

Winthrop,  of  Connecticut,  while  on  a  visit  to  London  in 
the  year  16 — ,  he  resolved  to  try  his  fortunes  in  the  new 
world,  then  open  to  the  disaffected  and  the  aggrieved  of 
every  name  and  rank.  With  this  view  he  converted  his 
fortune,  which  for  those  days  might  be  considered  ample, 
into  money,  and  with  his  library  and  other  moveable  prop 
erty  embarked  for  America.  He  was  at  the  time  of  his 
emigration  about  forty  years  of  age,  and  having  a  few 
months  before  been  bereft  of  an  amiable  and  lovely  wife, 
had  no  family  friend  to  share  his  fortunes  in  America,  save 
his  niece,  a  young  orphan  girl,  about  ten  years  old,  of 
great  beauty,  for  whom  he  cherished  the  affectionate  fond 
ness  of  a  father. 

He  had  retreated  to  this  retired  neighbourhood,  and  had 
arranged  his  library  in  his  new  house,  with  the  intention  of 
passing  the  remainder  of  his  days  in  the  retirement  so 
congenial  to  a  scholar,  when  the  death  of  the  former 
clergyman  of  the  little  church  to  which  he  belonged, 
suddenly  called  him  to  be  its  pastor. 

Anne  Willoughby  was  sixteen  years  old  at  the  com 
mencement  of  the  war,  and,  as  well  from  her  extreme 
beauty  as  from  certain  characteristics  not  very  well  under 
stood  by  the  simple  villagers,  she  was,  whether  present  or 
absent,  an  object  of  peculiar  interest.  It  was  observed  that 
she  never  mingled  with  the  village  maidens  in  their  sports, 
and  that  her  demeanour  towards  them  was  of  that  con 
descending  and  distant  order  little  calculated  to  invite 
intimacy.  A  rumour  was  also  abroad  that  she  was 
descended  of  an  ancient  family,  and  that  there  was  a  mys 
tery  hanging  over  her  present  humble  condition,  which 
would  be  cleared  up  (so  credulous  were  the  minds  of  that 
simple-hearted  people)  by  her  being  called  at  no  remote 
day,  if  not  to  wear  the  crown,  at  least  to  fill  a  high  rank 


24  MOTJNTHOPE. 

as  the  daughter  and  heiress  of  some  great  earl  or  duke. 
So  they  thought,  and  so  they  whispered ;  but  who  had  put 
so  extravagant  a  fancy  in  their  heads,  it  was  difficult  to 
tell ;  for  her  uncle  never  alluded  to  her  early  history,  and 
she  always  evaded  the  attempts  of  the  curious  to  elicit  the 
secret,  with  a  shrinking  sensitiveness  that  only  served  to 
increase  their  anxiety  to  a  more  intense  degree.  It  was 
also  observed,  and  with  no  little  pain,  by  that  religious  and 
anti-episcopal  community,  that  although  she  attended  upon 
her  uncle's  preaching  regularly  on  the  Sabbath,  and  lect 
ures  not  infrequently  during  the  week,  she  was  often  seen 
reading  in  the  library,  what  Dame  Austin,  one  of  the  mat- 
rons  of  the  village,  called,  "  one  of  those  unlawful  papal 
books,  full  of  printed  prayers  and  abominable  formalities," 
which,  for  better  euphony,  we  shall  denominate  the  Book 
of  Common  Prayer.  The  prejudice  excited  in  the  public 
mind  at  this  alarming  disclosure  was  somewhat  appeased, 
however,  by  the  good  dame,  who  was  generous  enough  to 
add,  that  "she  was  convinced  Mistress  Anne  must  possess 
the  true  spirit  of  the  evangelists,  as  she  was  not  only  faith 
ful  in  her  attendance  upon  all  the  ordinances,  and  listened 
to  all  of  worthy  Mr.  Southworth's  godly  discourses,  but 
administered  to  the  sick  in  more  charitable  offices  than  the 
whole  village  besides ;  and  she  dared  affirm  that  she  read 
this  bundle  of  heresies  for  the  sake  of  assisting  the  worthy 
minister  in  showing  it  up  to  the  world  in  its  true  colours :" 
adding,  that  "Mistress  Anne  was  learned  and  scholarly, 
and  could  read  the  dead  tongues  as  if  she  was  born  a  Greek 
— only  she  wished  the  sweet  young  lady  would  call  things 
by  their  right  names,  and  quit  speaking  of  that  heathenish 
Roman  jargon  of  Juno  'the  empress  of  the  skies.'  and  that 
naughty  winged  boy  with  the  bow  and  quiver :  she  never 
knew  any  good  come  of  such  nonsense."  The  young  lady 


M  0  U  N  T     H  0  P  E  .  25 

had  two  other  faults,  that  fell  under  the  observation  of  those 
supervisors  of  public  propriety.  It  was  whispered  that 
"she  wore  a  diamond  ring  upon  her  finger,  and  that  she 
had  been  seen  to  wander  alone  in  the  evening  along  the 
beach  of  the  romantic  little  lake  of  which  we  have  made 
mention,  and  sometimes  at  a  late  hour."  But  this  latter 
charge  rested  upon  such  uncertain  evidence  that  it  was 
never  breathed,  except  in  the  ear  of  a  few  spinsters,  and 
then  under  the  strictest  injunctions  of  secresy;  "for  it  was 
never  to  be  credited,"  said  Dame  Austin,  whose  words  we 
have  quoted  above,  "  either  that  the  minister  would  suffer 
such  a  thing,  or  that  the  young  lady  could  be  so  unsettled 
in  her  Christian  walk  as  to  be  given  over  to  conduct  so 
blameworthy." 

Notwithstanding  these  strictures  passed  upon  the  de 
meanour  of  the  young  lady,  she  was  beloved  by  most,  and 
regarded  with  admiration  by  all,  who  came  within  the 
circle  of  her  influence.  Her  tall  and  gracefully-formed 
figure — the  noble,  yet  perfectly  feminine,  cast  of  her  fea 
tures — the  unaffected  stateliness  with  which  she  moved 
among  her  inferiors,  as  if  it  were  a  thing  of  course  that 
they  should  pay  court  to  her — the  easy  elegance  of  her  con 
versation,  and  a  certain  air  of  frank,  ingenuous  truthfulness 
— gave  her  fascinations  such  as  fortune,  frugal  of  her  gifts, 
seldom  bestows  upon  a  single  favourite.  Her  complexion 
was  rich  and  variable,  and  her  low,  sweet  voice  was  so 
delightfully  modulated,  that  it  seemed  but  the  breathing  of 
the  purest  thoughts  and  noblest  impulses.  Her  brow  was 
such  as  poets  and  painters  in  all  ages  have  loved  to  delin 
eate  ;  not  high  and  broad,  but  delicately  moulded,  and  pale 
as  marble.  It  seemed,  when  contrasted  with  the  dark 
jjrqwn  hair  that  shaded  it,  the  rare  ideal  of  feminine  love- 

3 


26  MOUNTHOPE. 

liness,  such  as  often  haunts  the  dreams  of  the  imaginative 
and  young,  but  seldom  meets  us  in  the  walks  of  life. 

On  the  evening  of  the  —  day  of  June,  and  three  days 
after  the  unhappy  affair  at  Swansey,  Anne  Willoughby  sat 
alone  in  the  little  gallery  that  fronted  the  cottage,  with  her 
head  leaning  upon  her  small  white  hand,  apparently  in  deep 
thought.  The  village  bell  had  just  rung  the  hour  of  nine, 
and  its  tones  had  scarcely  died  away  among  the  dark 
leaves  of  the  forest  that  spread  around  her,  when  a  sudden 
flash  of  lightning  lit  up  the  lake  and  forest  with  a  broad 
glare,  followed  instantaneously  by  a  peal  of  thunder  that 
shook  the  house  to  its  foundation.  Aroused,  but  not  alarmed, 
by  this  shock  of  the  elements  that  portended  a  violent  storm, 
the  young  lady  arose,  and  entered  the  cottage.  Observing 
that  black  clouds  still  gathered  above  the  horizon,  and  that 
the  large  drops  began  to  rattle  against  the  window-panes, 
she  fastened  the  shutters,  and  was  proceeding  to  close  the 
hall-door,  when  the  forest  was  again  illuminated  by  another 
flash,  that  just  disclosed  through  the  rain-drops  that  now 
fell  in  torrents  the  imperfect  outline  of  a  mounted  horse 
man,  riding  precipitately  towards  the  cottage.  A  moment 
of  suspense  followed,  when  she  perceived,  by  a  repetition 
of  this  momentary  light,  that  her  eye  had  not  deceived  her ; 
for  her  visiter,  having  hastily  dismounted,  and  tied  his  horse 
to  a  tree,  was  rapidly  advancing  towards  the  cottage.  Her 
first  impulse  was  to  close  the  door,  and  call  her  uncle  to 
receive  or  exclude,  as  he  thought  proper,  this  unexpected 
guest;  but  long  accustomed  to  encounter  the  vicissitudes 
and  privations  of  a  life  in  the  wilderness,  she  had  acquired 
— if,  indeed,  she  did  not  inherit — a  fearlessness  which  might 
seem  weakness  to  maidens  who  live  in  more  luxurious  days. 
She  had  scarcely  made  up  her  mind  to  receive  him,  when 
he  presented  himself  at  the  threshold,  and  disclosed  features 


MOUNT     HOPE.  27 

•which  at  once  assured  her  that  she  had  run  no  hazard  in 
extending  to  him  the  hospitalities  of  the  house. 

"  Lady,"  said  the  stranger,  in  a  voice  and  with  a  smile 
that  showed  him  not  unschooled  in  the  language  due  to  one 
of  her  apparent  rank,  "you  have  before  you  a  wearied  and 
forlorn  traveller,  who  has  been  compelled  by  the  fury  of 
the  storm  to  seek  a  temporary  shelter  under  this  roof.  If 
you  are  alone  and  unprotected,"  he  continued,  observing 
that  she  made  no  answer,  "  I  will  only  crave  your  permis 
sion  to  tarry  till  the  storm  has  abated,  when  I  will  pursue 
my  journey." 

"Sir,"  replied  the  lady,  ."this  house  is  always  open  to 
receive  the  wanderer  who  will  participate  in  its  humble 
hospitalities.  We  can  at  least  give  you  food  and  shelter ; 
and  for  protection,  in  these  troublous  times,  you  will  be 
much  more  likely  to  bestow  it  upon  our  little  household, 
than  need  it  at  their  hands." 

The  stranger  smiled,  and  glanced  carelessly  at  his  sword 
and  pistols,  as  he  replied,  "I  have  indeed  old  and  tried 
friends  at  my  girdle,  that  have  stood  me  in  good  stead  ere 
this ;  yet  I  cannot  think  I  shall  be  beholden  to  them  for  any 
services  to-night.  And  yet,"  he  added,  playfully,  "  I  know 
not  in  what  cause  I  would  employ  either  short-sword  or 
pistol  with  more  zeal  than  in  thine  own,  fair  daughter." 

"I  will  speak  to  my  uncle,  who  will  give  you  such  enter 
tainment  as  the  house  affords ;  but " 

"But  I  know  not  by  what  name  you  are  to  make  his 
acquaintance,  you  would  say,"  rejoined  the  guest,  smiling. 
"But  you  will  be  saved  the  trouble  of  an  introduction,  or  I 
am  much  mistaken. — Charles  Southworth,"  he  continued, 
addressing  himself  to  his  host,  who  now  entered  the  room, 
"  do  you  see  any  lines  in  these  care-worn  features  that  call 
to  mind  the  dreams  of  your  youth  ?" 


28  MOUNTHOPE. 

Mr.  South  worth  stood  a  moment  with  his  eyes  fixed 
intently  on  the  melancholy  features  of  the  old  man,  as  if 
reperusing  the  dimmed  and  torn  page  of  some  familiar  book 
of  school-boy  days.  Surely,  that  proud  lip,  that  high  fore 
head,  where  mind  and  passion  had  both  left  their  scathing 
furrows,  and  that  iron  frame,  did  not  now  appear  before 
him  for  the  first  time. 

"It  is  he — and  yet  it  cannot  be — he  is  dead — but,  were 
it  his  ghost,  I  would  embrace  it!"  exclaimed  the  reverend 
clergyman ;  and,  laying  his  head  affectionately  upon  the 
breast  of  his  mysterious  visiter,  he  sobbed  aloud. 

"My  son,"  said  the  venerable  man,  in  a  voice  that  had  in 
it  nothing  of  the  tremulousness  of  age,  "  look  at  these  brawny 
sinews,  and  feel  the  grasp  of  this  bony  hand :  I  am  no  spirit, 
sent  to  awaken  in  your  heart  the  bitter  memory  of  the  suf 
ferings  of  your  father's  friend ;  but  I  come  with  my  load 
of  earthly  sorrows  yet  heavy  upon  my  back,  hunted  from 
hold  to  hold  like  a  wolf,  in  this  inhospitable  wilderness,  by 
that  silly  boy  who  now  misrules  England,  for  having  dared 
to  sit  in  judgment  upon  the  life  of  the  man — Charles  Stuart 
— whom  they  impiously  call  'the  martyr.'  I  am  Goffe  the 
regicide !  I  come  to  thee,  my  son,  and  ask  what  I  may 
never  find  till  I  lay  my  old  limbs  in  the  grave — a  lurking- 
place  from  the  swift  of  foot,  who  are  even  now  snuffing  like 
hounds  upon  my  track.  But,  if  my  stay  here  would  peril 
thee  or  thine,  I  will  go  my  ways.  It  is  better  that  I  die  at 
once,  than  bring  harm  to  the  form  that  I  once  fondled  on 
my  knee." 

"Thou  art  welcome — how  welcome,  words  can  never 
express — to  this  humble  dwelling.  Neither  king  nor  king's 
pursuivant  can  find  thee  here.  To-morrow  I  will  show 
thee  a  secret  chamber,  known  to  no  one  save  myself— not 
even  to  this  child  of  mine — where  I  will  bring  thee  bread 


MOUNTHOPE.  29 

and  meat  in  the  morning,  and  bread  and  meat  in  the  even 
ing,  as  the  winged  messengers  did  to  the  prophet  in  the 
days  of  old." 

"  Enough,  gentle  Charles ;  enough,  till  then !  But  who 
and  what  is  she  who  looks  and  moves  and  smiles  so  like 

her  who  once But  what  avails  the  past ! — who  is  now 

a  spirit  blest  as  angels?" 

"  I  will  tell  thee  all  in  due  time,"  said  the  clergyman. 
And  both  imprinted  a  fatherly  kiss  upon  the  cheek  of  Anne 
Willoughby,  as  they  parted  for  the  night. 

3* 


30  MOUNTHOPE 


CHAPTER    IV. 


"Not  unfamiliar  to  mine  ear, 
Blasts  of  the  night !  ye  howl— as  now." 

HENRY  KIRKK  WHITE. 


THE  whole  night  seemed  abandoned  to  the  caprices  of 
the  elements,  alternate  storm  and  calm.  It  had  not  con 
tinued  to  rain  more  than  an  hour  after  the  family  had 
retired,  when  a  sudden  and  terrific  blast  of  wind  swept 
through  the  forest,  tearing  up  by  their  roots  immense  trees 
in  its  course,  and  strewing  the  ground  with  their  torn  and 
shattered  limbs.  Anne  Willoughby  rose,  opened  the  case 
ment,  and  looked  out  upon  the  venerable  oaks  and  pines 
that  had  so  long  guarded  her  sequestered  home,  and  felt, 
as  branch  after  branch  quivered  and  fell  to  the  ground,  as 
if  she  was  witnessing  the  death-agonies  of  dear  and  long- 
cherished  friends.  But  the  fierce  blast  was  only  moment 
ary,  and  then  the  moon  shone  through  the  rifted  clouds 
tranquilly  over  the  wreck  of  the  storm. 

"  There  they  lie,"  said  the  maiden,  mournfully,  "  with 
the  water-drops  still  glittering  upon  their  dark  leaves,  to 
waste  and  wither  in  the  heat  of  to-morrow's  sun.  Yet, 
while  the  tough  oak  is  splintered  in  the  wind,  how  strange 
that  my  favourite  willow,  with  its  drooping  branches,  that 
trembled  in  the  gentlest  zephyr,  should  be  spared !  Is  not 
this  scene  a  strange  type  of  me  and  mine?  The  proud 
father  and  noble  brothers,  cold  upon  the  battle-field — the 
fragile  girl,  the  daughter  and  the  sister,  left  unharmed, 


MOUNT     HOPE.  31 

but  desolate,  in  a  world  that  has  so  little  sunshine  for  a  sol 
itary  heart !  Were  it  not  for  the  high  hopes  and  buoyant 
nature  of  one  whom  I  may  not  name  even  to  my  own 

thoughts But  what  crackling  sound  is  that,  like  a 

stealthy  footstep  among  those  fallen  boughs?  Sure  my  ear 
does  not  deceive  me ;  and  that  tall  form,  gliding  from  behind 
the  shadow  of  yonder  pine,  is  not  the  creation  of  a  wild 
fancy.  It  is  an  Indian ;  and  close  beneath  my  window  is 
another,  looking  in  upon  me.  Heaven  help  me!" 

Her  first  impulse  was  to  alarm  the  house,  and  call  her 
friends  to  her  assistance ;  but  seeing  that  the  savage  who 
stood  in  open  view  beneath  the  window  had  his  arms  folded 
across  his  breast,  in  the  attitude  rather  of  a  suppliant  than 
an  assailant,  and  that  he  was  addressing  himself  to  speak, 
she  summoned  all  her  firmness  of  mind,  and  listened. 

"Daughter  of  the  pale-cheek,"  said  her  swarthy  visiter, 
in  a  voice  that  seemed  too  gentle  to  portend  either  mischief 
or  wrong  to  an  unprotected  female,  "the  tongue  of  the  red 
man  is  friendly,  and  he  will  speak  the  truth.  Come  out 
from  the  cabin,  under  the  shade  of  the  willow,  and  he  will 
tell  thee  what  thou  would'st  give  thy  life  to  know." 

"Stand  where  thou  art,"  replied  the  maiden,  almost 
breathless  with  alarm  ;  "speak  it  there.  I  will  listen." 

"It  must  be  whispered  in  girl's  ear,"  said  the  Indian,  in 
the  same  quiet  tone ;  "  in  her  ear,  or  it  shall  die  here." 
And  he  passed  his  hand  across  his  lips  in  token  of  the 
strictest  secresy. 

"And  how  am  I  to  know  that  this  errand  concerns  me? 
Perhaps  you  will  kill  me  if  I  come  to  you,"  said  the 
young  lady. 

"As  she  pleases,"  responded  the  Indian,  in  a  tone  of 
indifference ;  "as  she  pleases — but  the  wolves  have  a  lame 
hart  by  the  lake,  and  they  will  kill  him  if  she  stays  behind." 


32  MOUNT    HOPE. 

"  The  daughter  of  the  pale-cheek,"  she  replied,  in  a  tone 
calculated  to  elicit  his  confidence,"  is  weak,  and  afraid  of 
the  night :  she  cannot  understand  the  words  of  her  red 
friend." 

"He  lies  on  the  sand  of  the  lake.  He  is  bleeding  and 
beautiful,"  answered  the  Indian ;  "  and  the  maiden  of  the 
pale-cheek  loves  him." 

This  wild,  enigmatical  language  had  a  meaning  that 
thrilled  her  frame,  and  almost  robbed  her  of  the  power  of 
speech.  Could  it  be  that  this  unlettered  savage,  whose  face 
she  had  never  before  seen,  was  skilled  in  the  secrets  of  her 
heart — those  secrets  which  even  her  uncle,  confiding  as 
she  had  ever  been  to  him  on  all  other  subjects,  had  never 
known,  and  which  she  had  hardly  dared  to  entertain  as 
inmates  of  her  own  bosom  ?  But  there  was  no  time  to  be 
lost;  and  rousing  herself  for  an  enterprise  that  seemed  to 
demand  the  exercise  of  all  her  powers,  and  simply  reply 
ing,  "  Let  my  red  brother  stay  till  his  sister  makes  ready," 
she  set  about  her  simple  preparation  for  this  mysterious 
journey.  A  moment  sufficed  for  her  hasty  toilet;  and 
gliding  down  the  stairs  with  a  noiseless  step,  she  removed 
the  fastening  from  the  latch,  and  joined  the  Indian,  who 
stood  waiting  under  the  tree. 

A  gesture  from  him  called  out  from  their  lurking-places 
about  twenty  other  Indians,  who  followed  him  and  his  fair 
companion  in  silence  in  the  direction  of  the  Haunted  Lake. 

After  a  circuitous  walk  of  about  half  a  mile,  they 
arrived  at  the  border  of  a  beautiful  grove  of  beech-trees 
that  sloped  down  to  the  small  white  shore  of  sand,  upon 
which  the  waves  of  the  lake,  agitated  by  the  recent  storm, 
were  dashed  with  unwonted  violence.  It  was  a  moment 
of  fearful  interest  to  the  young  lady,  who  now  visited  the 
lonely  spot  under  circumstances  so  different  from  those 


MOUNT     HOPE  33 

which  had  before  hallowed  every  curve  in  the  shore  and 
every  shady  nook  in  the  grove.  Superstition,  which  had 
thrown  over  the  place  a  screen  that  the  villagers  dared 
seldom  penetrate  after  sunset,  had  only  made  the  retreat 
more  secure  to  her,  as  if  she  stood  in  an  enchanted  circle, 
which  curiosity  and  obtrusive  intermeddling  could  not 
enter,  to  frighten  away  to  the  upper  air  those  bewildering 
dreams  that  wait  alike  on  hope  and  recollection,  and  lend 
their  softest  colouring  and  divinest  shading  to  the  object  of 
the  heart's  idolatry. 

But  even  now  the  pure  mind  of  Anne  Willougby  was 
free  from  the  stain  of  superstition.  She  only  thought  of 
one  object,  and  fixed  her  eye  upon  one  spot.  But  for  that 
object  she  looked  in  vain,  and  the  white  foam  spread  its 
watery  veil  over  that  spot,  renewed  by  every  succeeding 
wave  that  brought  its  chafed  and  vexed  tribute  to  the  sand. 

The  Indian  who  had  led  her,  and  who  seemed  to  be  the 
chief  of  the  band,  motioned  a  halt  in  the  grove ;'  and, 
turning  to  her,  asked,  with  a  peculiar  smile  and  tone  that 
left  her  no  longer  in  doubt  of  her  fate,  "Can  the  pale 
maiden  call  the  red  man  brother  now?  The  white  man 
says  his  heart  is  full  of  snakes,  and  the  white  man's  words 
are  true.  The  hart  is  bounding  in  the  forest ;  his  blood  is 
not  on  the  sand." 

The  painful  consciousness  that  she  was  betrayed,  and  a 
prisoner  in  the  hands  of  merciless  savages,  whatever  might 
have  been  the  effect  upon  her  mind  under  other  circum 
stances,  was  lost  in  the  higher  considerations  of  the  safety 
of  the  loved  one.  She  had  too  much  knowledge  of  the 
Indian  character  to  suppose  that  her  captors  would  have 
resorted  to  such  means  of  obtaining  possession  of  her 
person,  with  any  intention  of  relinquishing  it,  until  they  had 
accomplished  some  ulterior  purpose,  which  she  could  not 


34  MOUNT     II  OPE. 

then  fathom.  She  therefore  resolved  to  resign  herself  to  her 
situation  without  uttering  a  word  of  complaint,  and  await  the 
most  favourable  opportunity  either  of  escape  or  deliverance. 

She  submitted,  therefore,  without  the  least  show  of  resist 
ance,  to  be  placed  upon  a  rude  litter  or  chair  of  cedar 
boughs,  which  was  brought  by  two  Indians  from  a  secret 
hiding-place  in  the  thicket,  and  soon  found  that  she  was 
borne  at  a  rapid  rate,  but  in  what  direction  she  was  unable 
to  discover,  through  the  most  difficult  fastnesses  of  the 
woods.  They  made  their  journey  in  utter  silence,  follow 
ing  for  the  most  part  the  course  of  some  mountain  torrent, 
and  never  approaching  the  open  country  or  the  neighbour 
hood  of  a  human  habitation.  The  only  pauses  in  their 
march  were  occasioned  by  the  change  of  the  litter  from 
the  shoulders  of  those  who  bore  it  to  those  of  others  who 
stood  ready  at  hand  ;  and  this  was  done  with  such  dexterity, 
that  its  progress  was  scarcely  interrupted  for  a  moment 
during  the  night.  The  young  lady  was  placed  under  no 
restraint,  but  permitted  to  remain  in  a  recumbent  or  sitting 
posture  as  she  pleased,  and  to  look  upon  every  movement 
of  her  captors,  and  examine  every  object  that  presented 
itself  upon  their  rough  and  winding  path,  which  the  clear 
sky  enabled  her  to  do  without  difficulty. 

At  day-break  they  halted  upon  the  bank  of  the  stream, 
from  which  they  had  not  parted  company  for  the  last  hour 
of  their  march ;  and  here  the  chief  ordered  the  men  who 
carried  the  litter  to  place  it  upon  the  ground,  which  they 
did  as  gently  as  if  it  had  contained  a  sleeping  infant  which 
they  feared  to  awaken. 

The  chief  then  gave  her  his  hand,  and  assisted  her  to 
descend  the  wet  and  slippery  bank.  When  they  came  to 
the  foaming  bed  of  the  stream,  he  took  her  in  his  arms,  and, 
fording  the  turbid  current,  again  placed  her  upon  the 
ground,  and  assisted  her  with  a  delicacy  of  attention  that 


MOUNT     HOPE.  35 

did  much  to  allay  her  fears,  winding  around  difficult  rocks, 
and  removing  the  tangled  vines  and  bushes  from  her  path. 
The  roar  of  a  waterfall  was  now  distinctly  heard,  and  on 
turning  the  sharp  angle  of  a  rock,  she  found  herself  in  the 
very  mist  of  a  cataract,  more  grotesque  and  fantastic  than 
any  thing  she  had  ever  seen,  or  imagined  could  have 
existed  in  nature. 

The  torrent,  now  swollen  beyond  its  ordinary  dimensions 
by  the  rain  of  the  preceding  evening,  and  precipitated  from 
a  narrow  lip  of  the  ledge,  in  a  perpendicular  column,  a 
distance  of  fifty  feet,  upon  a  solid  platform  of  rock,  was 
shattered  into  fragments  of  foam;  and  then  uniting  its 
broken  forces,  took  a  second  plunge,  sheer  over  the  preci 
pice,  into  an  immense  circular  basin  that  seemed  of  almost 
immeasurable  depth,  the  sides  of  which  were  worn  by  the 
constant  attrition  of  the  waves  as  smooth  as  the  surface  of 
an  iron  cauldron.  The  sudden  crushing  sound  of  the 
waters  in  their  first  descent,  and  the  dead,  stifled  moan  with 
which  they  buried  themselves  in  the  depths  of  the  recep 
tacle  thus  prepared  for  them,  sending  up  scarcely  an  echo 
to  the  reverberating  banks  that  hemmed  them  in — the 
shadowy  clouds  of  mist  that  ascended  in  the  gray  light  of 
the  dawn — the  walls  of  rock  that  rose  on  every  side  with 
their  tangled  burden  of  nightshade  and  laurel,  and  here  and 
there  a  dark,  sombre  hemlock,  hovering  like  an  ill-omened 
bird  over  the  summits  of  the  cliff— together  with  the  dim- 
ness  of  the  atmosphere,  and  the  oppressive  sense  of  sol 
itariness  that  seemed  to  be  the  presiding  spirit  of  the  place — 
all  combined  to  fill  the  mind  of  the  unhappy  captive  with 
apprehension  and  alarm. 

There  is  something  in  the  sight  of  a  wild  stream,  amid 
mountain  solitudes,  rushing  madly  over  steep  heights,  and 
dashing  itself  against  rugged  rocks,  which  always  awakens 
in  the  minds  of  the  young  images  of  awe,  if  not  of  terror. 


36  MOUNT     HOPE. 

There  is  something  so  remorseless  in  the  headlong 
plunge  of  the  current,  that  it  assumes  to  the  mind's  eye  a 
kind  of  individuality  as  we  look  upon  it,  and  we  shrink 
back  instinctively,  as  from  contemplating  an  act  of  wanton 
suicide. 

The  impression  made  upon  the  mind  of  the  captive 
maiden  by  the  sight  of  so  wild  and  lonely  a  scene,  sur 
rounded  as  she  was  with  those  dark  and  savage  companions, 
was  so  bewildering,  that  she  sat  for  a  few  moments  in  a 
state  of  almost  utter  unconsciousness. 

Meanwhile,  the  Indians  composed  themselves  to  sleep, 
lying  down  in  a  circle  around  her,  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
render  it  impossible  for  her  to  escape  without  alarming  one 
or  more  of  them.  She  looked  upon  their  dusky  faces  until 
they  were  apparently  wrapped  in  profound  sleep,  and  then 
turned  to  gaze  once  more  into  the  current  that  boiled  with 
unceasing  foam,  and  whirled  in  fierce  eddies  around  the 
sides  of  its  prison. 

"Would  to  Heaven,"  she  murmured  to  herself,  "that  I 
could  escape  the  guilt  of  suicide !  how  gladly  would  I  com 
mit  my  frail  life  to  the  tender  mercies  of  that  pool !  Its 
cold  waves  would  at  least  protect  me  from  dishonour,  and 
from  a  death  a  thousand  times  more  to  be  dreaded  than  that 
momentary  pang.  What  though  I  might  be  torn  piece 
meal  on  the  sharp  edges  of  pitiless  rocks,  until  no  trace  of 
this  poor  frame  remained?  I  should  at  least  escape  the 
scalping-knife  and  the  flame." 

Strange  it  is  that  hope  never  quite  forsakes  us,  even  in 
the  most  doubtful  extremities.  She  felt  that  there  was  still 
some  chance  of  deliverance;  and  while  expedients  for 
escape,  and  visions  of  glad  friends  meeting  her  at  the  door 
of  her  own  home,  floated  in  her  imagination,  exhausted 
nature  claimed  reprisal,  ?nd  she  fell  asleep. 


MOUNT     HOPE.  37 


CHAPTER   V. 

«'And  noiseless  as  a  lonely  dream,  is  gone."— BYRON. 

THE  sun  rose  smilingly  that  morning  on  the  little  village 

of  B ,  and  was  just  peeping  through  the  panes  of  the 

cottage  windows  at  the  Bluff,  as  the  bell  rang  for  breakfast ; 
for  the  family  of  Mr.  Southworth  always  rose  at  an  early 
hour.  "Good  morrow,  general,"  said  the  clergyman  to 
his  venerable  guest,  as  he  entered  the  breakfast-room; 
"  you  look  pale  and  ill,  and  I  doubt  you  have  not  slept  well 
in  such  humble  lodgings :  but  the  secret  chamber  will  be 
in  readiness  to-day,  and  I  hope  for  the  future  you  will  be 
better  bestowed." 

"  My  son,  speak  not  of  it.  I  have  slept  many  an  hour  on 
the  cold  earth,  with  a  stone  for  my  pillow,  and  slumbered 
sweetly  as  an  infant,  with  my  locks  and  forehead  steeped 
in  dew  the  livelong  night ;  and  blithe  was  my  heart,  and 
cheerful  was  my  voice,  as  the  wing  of  the  morning  lark 
beat  the  air,  and  his  song  summoned  me  to  don  the  helmet, 
and  strike  another  blow  for  Oliver  and  England.  And 
when  I  sat  in  judgment  on  the  life  of  that  ' intelligencing 
tyrant,'  as  Mr.  Secretary  Milton  was  wont  to  call  him,  the 
dawning  light  that  streamed  through  the  stained  windows 
of  my  chamber  shone  upon  no  happier  face  than  mine. 
But  day  has  been  changed  into  night  since  the  falling  of  the 
axe  that  sent  him  to  his  account.  The  members  of  the 
tribunal  that  passed  upon  his  fate,  though  acting  in  the  fear 
of  a  just  God,  and  as  they  hoped  for  salvation,  have  been 
4 


38  MOUNTHOPE. 

swept  from  the  earth  by  the  use  of  every  scourge  that 
ingenious  malice  and  revenge — for  none  ever  called  it  filial 
love — could  employ,  in  the  hands  of  the  most  abandoned, 
to  inflict  torture  and  agony  upon  a  victim.  Some  favour 
able,  or  perhaps  it  may  yet  prove  adverse  wind,  has  driven 
me,  with  a  handful  of  my  compeers,  like  the  few  remaining 
spars  of  a  wrecked  and  shattered  ship,  upon  this  desert 
shore.  And  even  here  we  are  still  pursued  with  a  steadi 
ness  of  purpose  which  that  vain  and  idle  trifler  never  yet 
evinced,  save  in  a  bad  cause.  You  know  well  that  I  am 
a  stranger  to  fear ;  but,  Charles,  there  is  a  boy,  wandering 
I  know  not  where  upon  the  face  of  the  earth — a  darling 
son,  whom  in  a  fit  of  anger,  and  for  his  profligate  ways,  I 
banished  from  my  home — whose  face  I  have  prayed  Heaven 
I  might  once  more  look  upon ;  and  there  is  an  aged  friend 
whose  features  must  be  composed  in  death,  and  then  I  will 
welcome  the  executioner  and  the  block." 

"Have  you  good  ground  to  believe,"  inquired  his  host, 
u'that  your  son  sought  refuge  in  America?" 

"  He  wrote  me  a  letter,  in  which  he  informed  me  that 
such  was  his  intention,"  replied  Goffe;  "and  notwith 
standing  his  follies,  he  never,  to  my  knowledge,  forfeited  his 
word. — But  where  is  my  pretty  rose  of  the  wilderness?  I 
would  fain  look  on  that  face  again,  and  by  day-light." 

"  I  will  send  Sarah  to  call  her,"  said  the  reverend  gen 
tleman  ;  "  for  I  seldom  miss  her  merry  voice  after  the  first 
peep  of  dawn.  She  sings  her  sweetest  songs  before  the 
dew  leaves  the  grass  in  the  morning." 

In  a  moment  the  servant  returned,  with  a  face  expressive 
of  the  deepest  alarm,  and  informed  her  master  that  Mistress 
Anne  was  not  in  her  apartment,  and  that  her  hood  and  cloak 
were  both  gone. 

"It  is  one  of  her  girlish  freaks,"  said  the  clergyman, 


MOUNT     HOPE.  39 

"  and  I  doubt  not  we  shall  see  her  in  less  than  a  quarter  of 
an  hour,  with  her  truant  feet  wet  in  the  morning  dew,  and 
her  hair  decorated  with  as  many  specimens  of  wild  flowers 
as  grow  within  the  range  of  our  hills.  She  is  a  dear  way 
ward  runaway,"  he  added,  tenderly,  "and  has  given  me 
many  an  anxious  ramble  to  find  her  in  her  hiding-places ; 
and  when  I  have  found  her,  she  laughs  merrily,  and  asks 
me  what  I  have  to  do,  being  a  mere  mortal,  with  the  hal 
lowed  haunts  of  fairies.  But  if  I  happen  to  chide  her, 
which  I  have  done  but  once  or  twice,  never  did  shaken 
rose-bud  shed  such  a  shower  of  pearly  tears.  But  I  must 
forbid  her  wandering  so  far  from  home  in  these  unsettled 
times.  Were  any  harm  to  befall  the  maiden,  it  were  better 
that  I  were  dead." 

He  had  hardly  finished  speaking  when  Sarah  presented 
herself,  and  informed  him  that  young  Willie  Burton  had 
just  entered  the  hall,  and  asked  to  see  her  master  on  busi 
ness,  which  he  represented  to  be  of  the  greatest  importance. 

"  Show  him  in  immediately,"  said  the  clergyman ;  and 
then  added,  "  It  cannot  be  that  he  brings  evil  tidings  of  my 
niece ;  it  cannot  be — "  He  was  interrupted  by  the  hasty 
entrance  of  Willie  Burton,  a  sun-burned  lad  of  sixteen,  the 
son  of  a  thriving  farmer  who  lived  on  the  opposite  shore  of 
the  Haunted  Lake,  who  made  his  awkward  obeisance  with 
a  much  worse  grace  than  was  usual  with  him,  when  he 
saw  the  awful  person  of  "the  minister,"  as  Mr.  South  worth 
was  called  by  his  parishioners,  flanked  by  the  stern  and 
warlike  figure  of  his  guest. 

"What  would  you  with  me,  Willie?"  asked  the  clergy 
man,  affably.  "  Do  you  bring  any  news  from  the  wars  ?" 

I — I — came  to  ask  if  Mistress  Anne  be  at  home,"  said 
the  youth,  hesitatingly. 

"What  would  you  with  her,  Willie?" 


40  MOUNT     HOPE. 

"  Only  to  know  if  she  be  at  home,"  replied  the  young 
man,  more  promptly. 

"  Have  you  seen  her  during  your  walk  this  morning  ?" 
inquired  Mr.  Southworth. 

"  Not  this  morning,  but " 

"  But  what  ?  Speak  it  out,  if  you  know  or  have  heard 
where  she  is ;  for  she  has  not  been  seen  at  home  since  ten 
o'clock  last  evening." 

"  I  feared  as  much,  may  it  please  your  reverence  ;  for 

last  night,  as  I  returned  home  from  H at  a  late  hour, 

I  saw  a  troop  of  Indians  in  the  beech-wood  hard  by  the 
Haunted  Lake ;  and,  as  I  live,  I  saw  either  the  spirit  of 
Mistress  Anne,  or  her  blessed  self  standing  among  them, 
and  pointing  towards  the  water  as  she  spoke  to  one  of  the 
red-skins  in  a  voice  so  low  that  I  could  hear  never  a  word 
she  said." 

"The  Lord  be  merciful  to  me!"  exclaimed  the  clergy 
man,  wringing  his  hands  in  the  most  intense  agony.  "  She 
is  lost — lost  hopelessly  !  Would  to  God  we  could  exchange 
places!" 

"Peace,  my  son!"  exclaimed  the  regicide,  rising 
abruptly,  and  advancing  towards  the  lad  as  he  addressed 
him — "Answer  me  directly  what  I  shall  ask  you,  young 
man,  as  you  value  your  life.  How  could  it  happen  that 
you  should  be  standing  in  the  beech- wood  in  a  position  to 
observe  this  damsel,  surrounded  as  you  say  by  a  company 
of  savages,  and  yet  remain  undiscovered  by  her  or  them  ?" 

"I  crouched  beneath  a  tuft  of  laurel-bushes." 

"  How  long  did  they  remain  in  the  wood  ?" 

"Not  ten  minutes;  they  placed  Mistress  Anne  upon 
something  that  looked  like  a  bier,  and  carried  her  away 
with  them." 

"  What  direction  did  they  take  ?" 


MOUNT     HOPE.  41 

"A  north-westerly  course,  your  honour." 

"  Why  did  you  not  follow  them  ?" 

"I  did  attempt  it,  but  they  travelled  so  fast  that  I  was 
forced  to  run  to  keep  within  sight  of  them ;  and  as  I  was 
hurrying  down  a  hill,  about  a  mile  from  the  beech- wood,  a 
large  Indian,  who  kept  behind  the  others,  stopped  short,  and 
I  thought  I  was  discovered,  and  so  turned  back." 

"  Why  did  you  not  give  the  alarm  at  the  cottage  as  you 
returned." 

"  I  thought  it  might  have  been  an  apparition." 

"  Fool,  to  think  that  a  departed  spirit  should  choose  such 
company !  But  a  truce  to  this  nonsense !  Go  sound  the 
alarm  in  the  village.  Assemble  ten  good  yeomen  well 
armed,  and  meet  me  at  the  beech-wood  within  half  an  hour's 
time.  Ten  Englishmen  are  a  match  for  thrice  that  number 
of  savages.  And  do  you,  Charles,  stay  quietly  at  home, 
and  await  our  return;  for  we  would  have  your  pretty 
niece  receive  a  cordial  welcome  when  she  comes  with  us 
at  evening." 

"Pardon  me,  general;  but  I  shall  never  linger  about 
the  hearth-stone,  like  a  superanuated  drone,  while  my 
sister's  daughter  remains  in  such  hands.  I,  too,  can  wield  a 
blade  and  point  a  carbine :  I  have  not  forgotten  the  disci 
pline  of  that  bloody  night  when  the  father  and  brothers  of 
my  poor  Anne  lay  dead  around  me." 

"As  you  will,"  responded  Goffe,  laconically;  at  the 
same  time  buckling  his  belt  more  tightly  around  his  waist, 
and  examining  the  priming  of  a  gigantic  pair  of  pistols, 
with  the  coolness  of  one  to  whom  the  use  of  such  weapons 
was  a  familiar  business.  "Can  you  give  me  for  the 
nonce  a  rifle  that  will  answer  the  aim  of  a  steady  eye?" 

The  clergyman  stepped  to  a  closet  opening  into  the 
immense  stone  chimney,  and  producing  two  silver-mounted 
4* 


42  MOUNTHOPB. 

rifles  that  seemed  to  be  the  work  of  the  same  hand,  though 
one  was  much  longer  than  the  other,  and  presenting  both 
to  the  regicide,  said,  "Take  your  choice,  general;  the 
shorter  is  the  better-tried,  but  I  think  the  other  is  the  surer 
piece,  though  its  weight  may  weary  you." 

The  old  soldier  inspected  the  rifles  carefully,  and,  after 
a  minute  examination,  selecting  the  heavier  piece,  he 
stepped  to  the  window,  raised  it  to  his  shoulder,  and  dis 
charged  it. 

"  It  is  good  metal,"  said  he,  "  as  yonder  rover  of  the  air 
can  bear  testimony ;"  and,  as  he  spoke,  an  immense  eagle 
wheeled  upon  the  wing,  and  remaining  suspended  for  a 
moment  in  mid-air,  almost  directly  over  their  heads,  fell 
dead  not  twenty  yards  from  the  spot  where  they  stood. 
"He  must  have  been  an  hundred  yards  off,"  said  the 
regicide,  quietly ;  "  and  now  that  we  have  tested  our 
weapon,  let  us  away,  for  there  is  no  time  to  be  lost." 

They  found,  on  arriving  at  the  spot  pointed  out  by  Willie 
Burton,  that  the  Indians  had  left  evident  traces  of  their 
trail ;  but  on  following  it  out  of  the  wood,  the  keen  eye  of 
the  Regicide  discovered  that  there  were  two  trails  instead 
of  one,  of  equal  size,  and  that  each  followed,  as  nearly  as 
possible,  a  separate  branch  of  the  main  stream  that  dis 
charged  itself  into  the  Haunted  Lake.  By  this  time,  the 
party  under  the  direction  of  Willie  Burton  had  come  up, 
and  Gofle  interrogated  him  whether  he  had  followed  the 
Indians  as  far  as  the  point  where  they  then  were.  He 
replied  that  he  had,  and  still  asseverated  that  they  did  not 
divide  into  two  parties  at  that  place,  but  kept  on  together  as 
they  had  set  out. 

"  They  have  made  two  trails,  then,  to  mislead  their  pur 
suers,"  said  the  regicide.  "The  one  leading  up  the 
smaller  stream  must  have  been  made  in  the  early  evening. 


MOUNT     HOPE.  43 

But,  thanks  to  thy  night  wanderings,  young  master,  we  are 
not  likely  to  be  caught  with  this  trick.  Let  us  pursue  the 
bed  of  the  main  torrent,  and  lose  no  time ;  for  they  have 
not  less  than  five  hours'  start  of  us,  but  will  lie  still  during 
the  day." 

So  saying,  he  led  the  way  with  the  ease  of  one  long 
accustomed  to  the  life  of  a  pioneer  of  the  woods ;  and  we 
will  leave  him  and  his  little  party  to  make  the  best  of  their 
enterprise,  while  we  gather  up  some  of  the  scattered  forces 
of  our  narrative,  and  marshal  our  men  for  the  stern 
encounter  of  war. 


44  MOUNT     HOPE. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

"Does  the  flush  of  my  dark  cheek  waken  his  wrath? 
Does  he  covet  the  bow  at  my  back?" 

WHILE  we  gather  in,  one  by  one,  the  threads  of  our  story, 
let  us  not  lose  sight  of  the  great  chief  who,  by  the  unaided 
efforts  of  his  own  genius,  had  called  up  the  thickly-clus 
tering  events  which  then  chilled  every  heart  with  fear ; 
events  that  bore  in  their  then  inscrutable  recesses  the  fate 
of  every  aboriginal  tribe,  and  the  seeds  of  an  European 
population  that  now  peoples  this  continent,  from  the  rough 
coast  whence  the  struggle  emanated,  to  the  waters  of  the 
Western  ocean.  Mount  Hope  bay  had  ceased  to  reflect  the 
deepening  hues  of  sunset,  and  scarcely  a  tinge  of  twilight 
lingered  upon  the  western  cloud,  as  multitudes  of  warriors 
from  every  direction  thronged  to  the  royal  seat  of  King 
Philip  at  Pokanoket.  Some  came  from  the  country  of  the 
Nipmucks ;  some  from  the  tribes  that  lived  in  the  vicinity 
of  Albany  and  Niagara;  others  from  the  bright  rivers  and 
green  woods  of  the  then  wild  provinces  of  Maine  and  New 
Hampshire,  and  yet  others  from  tracts  of  country  lying  far 
to  the  south  of  the  Narragansets.  Some  came  through  the 
woods  with  the  celerity  of  the  stag  when  he  darts  along 
the  thicket  to  avoid  the  deadly  flight  of  the  arrow ;  others, 
moody  and  sullen,  passed  over  the  brow  of  Mount  Hope, 
lingered  a  moment  to  look  off  upon  the  expanse  of  the  bay, 
and  then  sauntered  idly  down  the  foot- worn  path  that  led 
to  the  council-ground.  Many  a  warrior  steered  his  fragile 


MOUNT     II  OPE.  45 

canoe  from  Pocasset  and  the  Massachusetts  coast,  over  the 
waves  that  now  rose  with  the  freshening  breeze  of  evening, 
heaving  their  light  burdens  recklessly  as  the  wind  tosses 
the  thistle's  beard  ; — yet  the  steady  navigator  plied  his  task 
warily,  skimming  the  surface  of  the  water  with  his  oaken 
paddles,  and  keeping  his  eye  alternately  on  the  motions  of 
hie  little  craft,  and  on  the  white  flint-rock  to  which  he 
steered,  that  rose  high  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  and  upon 
which  could  be  seen  through  the  dusk  of  evening  men, 
women,  and  children  moving  to  and  fro,  bearing  logs  and 
the  dry  tops  of  trees,  and  heaping  them  high,  as  if  for  a 
vast  funeral  pyre. 

At  last,  an  Indian  wound  up  the  mountain-side  with  a 
lighted  torch  in  his  hand.  He  stooped  down,  and  applied 
it  to  the  well-arranged  combustibles.  In  a  moment  they 
were  wrapped  in  a  broad  blaze,  that  streamed  wildly  above 
the  white  summit  of  the  rock,  rendered  more  ghastly  and 
distinct  by  the  dark  back-ground  of  a  cloud  that  skirted 
the  horizon.  This  was  the  signal  for  the  ceremonials  of 
the  evening  to  commence,  and  was  greeted  with  a  yell 
that  seemed  to  pierce  the  very  skies,  and  was  multiplied  by 
the  long  response  of  every  echo  that  haunted  the  windings 
of  the  beautiful  shore. 

By  eight  o'clock  the  council-field  was  thronged  so  densely 
around  the  throne  or  seat  of  King  Philip  for  several  rods, 
as  effectually  to  bar  all  approach  to  the  place  occupied  by 
royalty.  Never  did  an  assemblage  of  martial  men  meet 
in  more  varied  and  grim  attire,  or  with  more  determined 
purposes  of  vengeance. 

There  could  not  have  been  less  than  six  thousand  war 
riors,  all  painted  in  the  most  hideous  manner,  and  every 
tribe  armed  and  decorated  in  a  style  peculiar  to  itself. 
The  Wampanoags,  as  they  were  the  entertainers  of  the 


46  MOUNT     HOPE. 

whole  council,  and  the  most  powerful  of  all  the  tribes, 
were  much  more  largely  represented  than  the  others,  and 
also  much  better  armed,  having  most  of  them  hatchets  of 
steel,  and  many  of  the  chiefs  being  provided  with  hand- 
some  English  muskets.  The  warriors  were  not  dressed  in 
any  thing  like  a  uniform  manner ;  but  with  the  exception 
of  the  sachem,  whose  war-dress  was  settled  by  the  custom 
of  his  fathers,  and  who  wore  the  distinguishing  badges  of 
his  clan,  each  trusted  in  a  great  degree  to  the  fruitfulness 
of  his  own  invention,  to  render  his  form  and  visage  most 
terrific  to  the  enemy.  Yet  the  method  of  wearing  the  hair 
longer  or  shorter,  and  the  several  shades  of  colouring  in 
the  paint  applied  to  their  faces,  afforded  sufficient  marks  to 
identify  every  individual  savage  with  his  proper  band. 
Those  who  had  lived  at  a  remote  distance  from  the  English 
settlements,  carried  few  European  weapons,  but  wielded 
the  ponderous  war-club,  wrought  of  the  toughest  white-oak ; 
the  long  ashen  or  sassafras  bow,  with  its  accompanying 
quiver  of  arrows  pointed  with  flint;  the  tomahawk,  the 
heavy  stone  axe,  the  sharp  scalping-knife  of  bone,  and  the 
long  straight  spear  of  iron- wood,  hardened  in  the  fire  so  as 
to  do  nearly  the  same  execution  as  if  it  had  been  made  of 
the  keenest  steel. 

Their  dress  was  composed  of  the  skins  of  the  wild-cat, 
bear,  or  wolf — great  care  being  had  to  adjust  it  in  such  a 
fashion  as  to  set  off  to  the  most  perfect  advantage  the  stat 
ure  of  the  wearer. 

While  the  warriors  were  assembling  in  due  form,  the 
squaws,  to  the  number  of  several  hundred,  betook  them- 
selves  to  the  canoes  that  had  been  left  on  the  beach ;  and 
paddling  about  the  cove,  a  few  rods  from  the  shore,  gave  a 
strange,  unearthly  life  to  the  waters  in  which  they  played 
their  mad  gambols,  drowning  the  music  of  the  breeze  and 
wave  by  their  jarring  voices  and  discordant  laughter. 


MOUNTHOPE.  47 

When  the  warriors  were  duly  assembled,  the  head 
sachems  and  paniese,  or  wise  men  of  the  respective  tribes, 
seated  themselves  upon  a  little  rise  of  ground,  under  the 
shade  of  a  large  poplar  that  tossed  its  restless  leaves  over 
the  limpid  fountain,  then  and  still  known  as  "King  Philip's 
spring;"  while  the  inferior  warriors  stood  beneath  them, 
arranged  in  rows  according  to  their  rank,  half  hemming 
them  in  with  their  long  semi-circular  lines.  Philip  sat 
upon  a  seat  or  throne,  chiselled  out  of  the  white  flint-rock 
that  formed  for  it  an  over  shadowing  canopy,  dressed  in  the 
royalties  that  had  descended  to  him  from  the  great  Massa- 
soit  his  father,  his  look  stern  and  immoveable  as  the  rock  of 
which  he  seemed  to  form  a  part.  He  wore  the  same  small 
head-band  of  wampum,  with  its  floating  tuft  of  eagle's 
feathers,  that  adorned  his  head  on  the  evening  of  the  inter- 
view  with  his  lovely  queen :  in  addition  to  this,  an  enormous 
belt  of  wampum,  about  twelve  inches  in  breadth,  passing 
around  his  gigantic  shoulder,  reached  downward  to  the 
knee.  This  belt  was  interwoven  with  small  sparkling  sea 
shells,  elaborated  with  wonderful  skill  into  the  figures  of 
the  various  beasts  and  birds  emblematical  of  his  tribe,  and 
fringed  with  the  hair  of  the  moose.  A  small  girdle  of 
similar  material  passed  around  his  waist,  to  which  was 
suspended  a  scalping-knife  of  tortoise-shell,  of  exquisite 
finish.  He  held  a  massive  war-club  in  his  right  hand, 
curiously  carved,  and  black  as  ebony.  A  bow  that  no 
other  warrior  of  the  assembled  tribes  could  bend,  with  a 
quiver  of  arrows,  lay  upon  the  mat  on  which  his  feet  rested, 
which  were  clad  in  moccasins  of  deer-skin,  richly  bordered 
with  otter's  fur.  His  legs  and  arms  were  bare,  and  upon 
his  breast  was  painted  the  figure  of  the  bald-eagle  with 
expanded  wings. 

On  the  right,  and  nearest  the  sachem,  sat  his  chief  cap- 


48  MOUNT    HOPE. 

tain,  Anawan — a  gray-haired  chief,  about  sixty-five  years 
of  age,  who,  not  only  from  rank,  but  from  long  experience 
and  well-tried  prowess,  might  justly  claim  the  place  of 
principal  adviser  to  the  monarch.  His  only  article  of 
dress  was  an  immense  wolf-skin,  passing  around  the  waist, 
and  extending  to  the  middle  of  the  thigh.  His  face  was 
painted  with  red  and  black  paint,  and  his  long  gray  hair 
forced  over  the  crown  of  the  head,  and  fastened  in  a  knot 
at  the  neck,  was  terminated  by  the  skin  of  a  rattlesnake 
that  fell  between  his  shoulders.  The  upper  portions  of  the 
body  were  entirely  naked. 

Next  him  was  seated  Tyasque,  and  on  the  left  hand  of 
the  king  were  Tuspaquin  and  Tatoson ;  all  hideously 
painted,  and  armed  with  deadly  weapons,  but  nearly  naked. 

Philip  sat  a  few  moments,  until  the  confusion  that  had 
attended  the  first  gathering  of  the  crowd  had  died  away, 
and  then  rose  to  speak. 

"  Pometacom  is  the  father  of  his  people,"  began  the  proud 
sachem,  glancing  his  dark  eye  from  rank  to  rank  of  the 
congregated  warriors.  "He  is  young  in  winters,  and  his 
feet  are  swift  in  the  woods.  Many  moons  ago,  when  his 
father  Massasoit  was  in  his  youth,  the  Umpame  men  came 
in  the  big  canoe  with  wings,  to  visit  the  chief  in  his  great 
wigwam  at  Pokarioket.  The  deer  bounded  in  the  wood — 
the  beaver  and  the  otter  were  plenty  in  the  rivers — the 
tautaug  and  the  shell-fish  were  plenty — and  Massasoit 
owned  them  all.  The  pale-skins  brought  nothing  with  them 
but  prayers  to  the  chief  for  a  little  land  for  their  corn,  and 
waters  where  they  might  fish.  The  sachem  smiled  as  he 
gave  them  a  welcome,  and  his  big  heart  shared  his  hunting- 
grounds  and  his  fields  with  them.  They  slept  in  his  cabin, 
and  fished  in  his  canoe.  The  white  man  grew  strong :  he 
cut  down  the  tall  pines  and  chestnuts,  he  tore  away  the 


MOUNT     HOPE.  49 

vine,  and  the  deer  disappeared.  He  dried  up  the  rivers,  so 
that  the  otter  and  the  beaver  went  far  away  beyond  the 
country  of  the  Mohawks.  The  Umpame  men  grew  stronger, 
and  forced  the  old  chief  to  make  his  mark  in  a  book  that 
talked  lies,  and  then  went  upon  his  woods  and  waters,  and 
called  them  their  own.  The  old  chief  died  in  sorrow. 
Wamsutta,  his  eldest  son,  wore  the  feathers  of  the  eagle's 
wing,  and  his  heart  swelled  with  rage  when  the  Umpame 
men  sent  for  him  to  go  to  their  council.  The  young  chief 
refused.  They  caught  him  in  the  night,  as  he  slept  with 
his  people  around  him,  and  bore  him  away  to  their  hunting- 
house.  In  the  night,  his  head  was  hot  with  fever,  and  his 
heart  was  sick.  His  men  bore  him  away  on  the  branches 
of  trees.  On  the  third  day,  he  died.  Then  his  brother 
Pometacom  became  the  father  of  his  tribe.  The  pale-faces 
murdered  his  friends,  and  the  white  sachem  at  Boston  sent 
his  runners  to  call  the  chief  to  his  council-fire  to  make  a 
treaty.  Pometacom  laughed  scornfully,  and  sent  him 
word  that  he  disdained  to  treat  with  a  subject.  'Let  my 
brother  Charles  come  over  the  big  waters,  and  sit  upon  my 
mat,'  said  the  chief;  '  I  will  treat  with  him.  Kings  do  not 
treat  with  subjects.' " 

The  orator  then  addressed  himself  to  the  various  tribes 
that  were  represented  before  him,  in  those  powerful  and 
irresistible  interrogatories,  of  which  all  historians  agree  in 
attributing  to  him  the  most  perfect  mastery.  "  Where  are 
the  Nipmucks,  that  once  lived  in  their  wigwams  among  the 
hills,  and  were  many  as  the  pigeons  that  flew  in  the  woods  ? 
They  are  blown  away,  as  the  yellow  leaves  are  whirled  to 
the  ground  when  the  white  frost  settles  on  their  stems.  A 
few  of  the  Nipmucks  are  here ;  let  them  say  where  are 
their  lands.  Words  written  in  lying  books,  talking  a 
strange  language  that  the  red  man  understands  not,  have 

5 


50  MOUNT     HOPE. 

given  them  to  men  with  white  faces  and  crooked  backs, 
whose  eyes  look  upon  the  ground.  Why  does  Canonchet 
sit  like  a  squaw  upon  his  mat,  weaving  baskets  and  string 
ing  wampum?  Why  is  his  heart  like  the  heart  of  the 
fawn,  and  his  foot  swifter  than  the  stag's  when  he  hears  the 
sound  of  the  white  man's  gun?  It  is  because  women,  and 
boys,  and  chiefs  too  old  to  go  to  war,  wrote  their  marks  in 
a  book  when  the  great  sachems  of  the  tribe  had  gone  out 
to  hunt." 

He  paused  a  moment,  as  if  to  note  the  effect  of  these 
scornful  interrogatories  upon  the  minds  of  his  auditory, 
and  then  went  on  with  renewed  energy : 

"  The  Umpame  men  ordered  Pometacom  to  bring  them 
five  heads  of  wolves.  He  will  give  them  the  teeth  of  five 
wolves  in  exchange  for  scalps  covered  with  brown  hair. 
Hobbomocko  and  Pometacom  are  one  god." 

He  drew  from  his  girdle,  as  he  concluded,  the  beautiful 
scalping-knife  of  tortoise-shell,  and  casting  it  haughtily 
upon  the  ground,  at  a  short  distance  from  the  place  where 
he  stood,  asked,  significantly,  "What  chief  will  dare  to 
take  it  up?  He  shall  be  Pometacom's  great  captain.  He 
shall  bring  to  Pokanoket,  before  the  full  moon,  ten  scalps 
of 'the  English.' 

There  was  a  long,  breathless  pause.  Whoever  should 
lay  claim  to  this  symbol  of  blood,  and  find  himself  opposed 
by  the  chiefs  and  warriors  present  in  council,  was  sure  to 
meet  with  the  derision  of  his  people ;  and  whoever  should 
take  it  up  without  such  opposition,  yet  find  himself  unable 
to  perform  the  condition  of  its  acceptance,  by  presenting  to 
Philip  ten  scalps  of  the  enemy  by  the  time  appointed,  must 
lose  his  own:  so  tyrannical  were  the  exactions  of  this 
arbitrary  chieftain. 

The  young  chiefs  looked  at  each  other,  and  then  at  the 


MOUNT     HOPE.  51 

glittering  weapon,  with  contending  emotions  of  hope  and 
doubt,  but  none  dared  to  step  forward  and  take  it. 

Philip  darted  a  fierce  glance  upon  the  up-turned  faces 
so  intently  bent  upon  him ;  and  then,  stepping  down  from 
the  throne,  walked  deliberately  to  the  spot,  stooped  slowly, 
picked  up  the  scalping-knife,  and,  thrusting  it  again  into  his 
belt,  smiled  disdainfully,  as  he  exclaimed,  as  if  in  answer 
to  his  own  inquiry,  "  Pometacom  alone  is  worthy  to  wear  it !" 

He  then  broke  forth  again  in  the  daring,  impetuous  style 
so  characteristic  of  his  wild  lineage : 

"  The  Queen  of  the  Wampanoags  has  gone  with  the  son 
of  Pometacom  to  the  cabin  of  Canonchet.  Her  black  eyes 
were  bright,  but  they  were  filled  with  tears,  when  she  left 
her  chief  at  the  top  of  the  hill.  Chiefs !  every  tear  of  the 
Queen  of  the  Wampanoags  shall  be  counted  against  a  white 
man's  scalp.  The  wild-cat  will  be  abroad  in  the  thicket 
when  the  Sachem  of  the  Wampanoags  reaches  their  cabins 
— the  night  will  be  dark — he  will  burn  their  wigwams — he 
will  bring  their  daughters  to  Pokanoket  with  scalps  in  their 
hands.  Chiefs!  Pometacom  will  lead  you  to  the  dark 
woods." 

He  cast  a  defiant  glance  towards  the  north,  as  he  spoke 
the  last  word,  while  a  menacing  gesture  of  the  hand  bespoke 
powerfully  the  energy  and  bitterness  of  his  hereditary  hate. 
He  then  stepped  eagerly  forth  into  the  open  space  in  front 
of  the  chiefs,  and  led  a  dance,  moving  from  the  right  pretty 
nearly  in  the  circumference  of  a  circle,  the  centre  of  which 
was  marked  by  a  stout  log  of  wood,  driven  perpendicularly 
into  the  ground,  and  rising  about  six  feet  above  the  surface. 
His  majestic  figure,  notwithstanding  its  almost  colossal  pro 
portions,  seemed  to  float  upon  the  air,  so  perfect  was  the 
ease  and  grace  of  his  movements.  As  he  passed  around 
the  ring,  the  chiefs,  who  were  before  seated  under  the  pop- 


52  MOUNT     HOPE. 

lar-tree,  hastily  formed  a  circle,  directly  without  the  line 
of  his  path  ;  and  behind  those  the  less  noble  warriors  ranged 
themselves  into  a  similar  circle,  of  a  larger  diameter,  and 
more  densely  thronged. 

Meanwhile,  about  one-half  of  the  squaws  and  young 
children  had  left  the  canoes;  and  having  climbed  to  the  top 
of  the  ledge  that  overlooked  the  dancing-ring,  were  already 
on  tip-toe,  with  their  heads  bent  forward  and  arms  extended, 
to  beat  time  to  the  hasty  step  of  the  performer.  The  rem 
nant,  still  remaining  in  the  canoes,  huddled  together  like  a 
flock  of  frightened  sea-fowl  in  the  act  of  mounting  upon  the 
wing,  flung  their  broad  paddles  over  the  sides  of  their 
rocking  barks,  in  like  preparation  for  the  cadence  of  the 
song.  The  chief,  after  moving  two  or  three  times  around 
the  ring,  as  if  to  curb  his  foot  to  the  measure,  began,  in  a 
loud,  high  key,  to  chant  the  valour  of  his  ancestry  and  the 
glory  of  his  tribe.  Sometimes  the  step  was  quick,  some 
times  slow — in  exact  keeping  with  the  burden  of  the  chant. 
Every  attitude  of  person,  every  variety  of  motion  which 
the  human  frame  is  capable  of  assuming,  every  line  of  his 
expressive  face,  was  taxed  to  the  full  extent  to  give  force 
and  vehemence  to  the  recital. 

At  each  pause,  the  lookers-on  nodded  their  assent  to  the 
sentiment  expressed  ;  at  the  same  time  uttering  the  approv 
ing  exclamation,  "  Yeh-yeh-yeh!"  in  a  sharp  guttural  tone, 
more  resembling  the  joyous  yells  which  the  damned  spirits 
maybe  supposed  to  utter  over  torture  mutually  inflicted  on 
each  other,  than  any  modification  of  the  human  voice.  The 
song  ended  with  the  brief  history  of  the  chieftain's  own 
exploits,  together  with  a  prediction  of  the  total  discomfiture 
of  the  English. 

Philip  was  succeeded  by  Anawan  and  the  three  other 
sachems  before  described,  who,  each  in  his  order,  recounted 


MOUNT     HOPE.  53 

his  past  or  foretold  his  future  triumphs.  As  fast  as  they 
successively  concluded,  each  glided  to  the  centre  of  the 
circle,  and  struck  a  two-handed  blow  with  his  war-club 
against  the  upright  post,  which  was  done  not  only  to  show 
that  the  ring  was  now  ready  for  a  new  occupant,  but  also 
as  significant  of  a  challenge  for  any  one  who  should  be 
audacious  enough  to  call  in  question  the  truth  of  the  recital. 

After  these  monodies  were  over,  the  warriors  all  fell  pro 
miscuously  into  the  ring,  armed  in  full  array,  as  if  for 
battle ;  brandishing  their  tomahawks  and  stone  axes  in  each 
other's  faces,  and  shouting  forth  their  shrill  war-cries — 
while  now  to  the  right,  and  now  to  the  left — now  moving 
backward,  and  now  forward — or  scattered  in  apparent 
rout,  they  whirled  themselves  around  the  circle  with  a  speed 
so  dizzy  as  to  render  their  forms  almost  invisible  to  the 
eye :  yet  so  complete  was  their  discipline,  so  accurate  their 
aim,  and  so  correct  their  feet  to  the  measure,  that  though 
their  footsteps,  and  the  blows  of  their  weapons,  as  they 
clashed  against  each  other,  shook  the  ground  and  bewil 
dered  the  senses,  yet  every  participator  in  the  dance  was 
as  safe  from  the  collision,  as  if  he  had  slumbered  upon  the 
mat  of  his  own  wigwam. 

When  the  dance  was  fairly  completed,  the  guests  were 
arranged  for  a  feast,  in  a  manner  agreeable  to  the  prece 
dents  of  their  respective  nations ;  due  regard  being  had  to 
rank,  as  in  all  the  preceding  ceremonies  of  the  evening. 
This  feast  was  prepared  and  furnished  by  the  great  Philip 
himself,  and  was  probably  the  most  magnificent  entertain 
ment  ever  provided  by  the  hospitality  of  a  forest  king. 
The  provisions  consisted  mainly  of  venison  and  bear's  meat, 
which  serve  to  season  and  render  palatable  each  other — • 
"the  venison  being  dry  and  hard,  while  the  flesh  of  the  bear 
is  soft  and  juicy."  There  was  also  corn-bread,  and  a  spe- 

5* 


54  MOUNTHOPE. 

cies  of  pudding  called  "sopon,"  prepared  with  such  skill 
as  to  possess  a  delicacy  of  flavour  tempting  even  to  the  fas- 
tidious  appetite  of  the  European ;  and  fish  of  every  kind, 
with  which  the  bays  and  rivers  of  the  rich  entertainer  so 
copiously  abounded. 

These  viands  were  brought  forward  by  young  Indian 
boys,  appointed  to  the  task,  from  a  cleft  or  recess  in  the 
ledge,  in  astonishing  profusion.  They  bore  them  in  small 
wicker-baskets,  and  spread  them  in  order  upon  the  long 
table  of  mats  that  had  been  thrown  upon  the  ground  to 
receive  them.  The  hand  of  woman,  to  which  almost 
all  the  servile  offices  of  savage  life  are  usually  considered 
to  belong,  had  nothing  to  do  in  this  solemn  festival.  Rum, 
or  "occopeeches,"  as  it  was  termed  by  the  Indians — that 
ever-faithful  attendant  on  all  their  disputes  and  disturb 
ances,  either  among  themselves  or  with  the  English — was 
present  on  this  occasion,  circulating  freely  in  large  gourds, 
but  only  offered  to  the  chiefs,  each  taking  a  sip  of  the 
beverage  until  it  had  made  its  circuit,  when  the  residue 
was  thrown  into  the  air  by  a  priest,  as  an  offering  to  the 
God  of  Evil. 

The  feasts  of  the  Indians  are  not  often  marked  by  very 
notable  exhibitions  of  abstemiousness,  and  on  this  occasion 
each  warrior  ate  as  if  he  graduated  his  own  dignity  accord 
ing  to  the  measure  of  meat  consumed  by  him  at  a  meal. 
The  one  man  of  all  the  throng  who  neither  tasted  food  nor 
drank  fire-water,  was  the  mighty  sachem  at  whose  insti 
gation  this  stupendous  undertaking  had  been  commenced, 
and  to  the  prowess  of  whose  arm  all  trusted  with  an  un- 
doubting  confidence  for  its  consummation.  He  sat  apart 
from  the  rest,  communing  with  his  own  thoughts,  and 
revolving  in  his  mind  the  bright  visions  or  boding  fore- 
shadowings  of  the  future. 


MOUNTHOPE.  55 

The  feast  had  lasted  nearly  two  hours,  and  it  was  now- 
past  midnight.  But  the  most  important  part  of  the  ceremo 
nial  was  yet  to  be  celebrated.  The  sacrifices  of  the  allied 
tribes  were  that  night  to  be  offered  up  to  the  dreaded 
Hobbomocko ;  to  bribe,  if  possible,  the  favour  of  that 
capricious  deity,  and  induce  him  to  undertake  their  cause, 
and  visit  the  English  with  his  implacable  wrath. 

A  few  rods  from  the  spring,  and  sloping  downward  to 
the  bay,  was  a  gentle  declivity,  covered  with  long  grass, 
and  interspersed  here  and  there  with  large  gnarled  oaks, 
that  had  defied  the  winds  and  ice-storms  of  centuries,  and 
had  supplied  many  generations  of  the  Wampanoags  with 
their  annual  tribute  of  summer  shade  and  autumnal  acorns. 
Among  these  venerable  half-decayed  monuments  of  the 
vegetable  world,  the  powas  or  priests  were  now  busily 
employed  for  the  reception  of  the  grim  God  of  Evil.  A 
small  square  space  was  enclosed  by  short  strong  posts, 
driven  into  the  ground  after  the  manner  of  palisades,  em 
bracing  an  area  of  about  twenty  feet  in  diameter.  This 
enclosed  plat  of  ground  was  filled  with  dry  logs  and  limbs 
of  pine  and  oak,  such  as  might  compose  a  sudden  and  at 
the  same  time  a  durable  fire.  Near  by  were  piled  up  in 
huge  heaps  the  choicest  furs,  the  most  valuable  implements 
of  art  and  agriculture,  belts  of  wampum,  and  weapons  of 
war,  with  every  other  valuable  thing  known  to  an  Indian 
that  might  be  supposed  to  conciliate  the  favour  or  avert  the 
anger  of  their  fastidious  divinity.  Torches  of  birchen- 
bark  and  pine-knots  were  also  fastened  upon  the  boughs  of 
the  oaks  in  places  most  favourable  for  lighting  the  scene  of 
the  sacrifice. 

By  this  time  the  Indians  had  all  assembled  near  the 
altar — with  the  exception  of  the  squaws  and  papooses, 
who  had  betaken  themselves  again  to  the  boats — and  now 


56  MOUNT    HOPE. 

stood  motionless  and  silent,  waiting  for  the  powas  to  light 
the  torches  and  kindle  the  flame. 

The  number  of  these  priests  was  about  forty.  As  they 
had  remained  inactive  during  the  preceding  deliberations 
of  the  evening,  so  now  every  thing  was  given  over  to  their 
hands.  Chiefs  and  private  warriors  were  alike  passive  as 
the  parts  of  a  machine  under  the  influence  of  the  power 
that  moves  it.  After  the  crowd  had  stood  for  a  few 
moments  in  long,  unmoving  columns,  silent  as  the  dead  in 
an  Egyptian  vault,  at  a  given  signal  from  the  head  powaw, 
made  by  a  slow  wave  of  the  hand,  every  member  of  the 
sacred  brotherhood  lighted  the  coil  of  white  birchen-bark 
which  he  held  in  his  right  hand,  and  then,  gliding  stealthily 
from  tree  to  tree,  quickly  communicated  the  blaze  to  those 
which  were  stationary,  until  the  whole  forest  seemed  in 
flames.  The  breathless  crowd  BOW  formed  their  ranks 
around  the  scene,  but  without  even  the  sound  of  a  footfall, 
closing  in  with  their  dark  figures  the  ministers  of  the  god, 
and  awaiting,  though  without  any  visible  signs  of  impa 
tience,  the  completion  of  the  rite.  Just  as  the  chief  powaw 
was  lifting  his  torch  to  kindle  the  altar,  he  was  interrupted 
by  a  phenomenon  of  a  most  interesting,  and,  to  an  Indian, 
terrific  character.  Suddenly  the  northern  sky  was  suffused 
with  a  faint  blush,  like  the  earliest  indication  of  a  sum- 
mer's  dawn:  it  deepened  and  grew  every  moment  more 
fearfully  distinct,  as  it  spread  to  the  east  and  west,  like  the 
flames  of  a  burning  prairie.  Columns  of  light  and  shade, 
assuming  a  thousand  spectral  shapes,-  seemed  to  the  terrified 
spectators  to  chase  each  other  across  the  heavens  in  the 
wild  encounter  of  battle.  Now  they  joined  in  promiscu 
ous  slaughter— now  an  Englishman  and  an  Indian  brand 
ished  their  weapons,  and  struggled  in  the  death-grapple. 
The  Indians  stood  a  moment  in  amazement  at  this  terrible 


M  OTJN  T     HOPE:.  57 

exhibition  of  nature.  But  the  effect  was  too  overpowering 
to  be  repressed;  and  instantaneously,  as  if  from  a  single 
throat,  the  yell,  or  rather  howl  of  terror,  broke  forth.  It 
was  not.  the '.triumphant  scream,  that  signalizes  a  savage 
victory;  nor  the  sharp,  venomous  cry  of  hate,  that  attends 
the  bloody  office  of  the  scalping-knife ;  but  -a  long  contin 
uous  wail,  the  suppliant  cry  of  superstition,  deprecating  a 
nocturnal  and- harmless  phenomenon,  as  the  demonstration 
of  a  wrath  at  once  omnipotent  and  infernal.  The  women 
and  children  at  the  same  time  mingled  their  shrill  voices 
with  the  louder,  but  less  piercing,  cry  of  the  males, 
plunged  into  the  water,  and  hurried  precipitately  toward 
the  shore.  Even -nature,  as  if  startled  at  the  sight  of  her 
own  revelations,  repeated  the  mournful  lamentation  in 
many  an  echo  to-  rock  and  hill. 

This  intemperate  expression  of  fear  at  the  supposed  anger 
of  a  superhuman  power,  was,  however,  of  short  duration* 
Enthusiasm  belongs  to  every  great  mind,  as  one.  of  the 
elements  of  its  very  being;  but  superstition — though  in  the 
uncultivated  savage  it  must  necessarily  have  some  dominion 
over  the  noblest  mind— never  quite  subdues  it.  Besides, 
there  is  something  in  a  spirit  born,  for  power,  and  accus 
tomed  to  its  exercise,  that  teaches  it,  like  a  kind  of  instinct, 
to  check  the  exhibition  at  least,  if  not  the  Impulses,  of  its 
own  passions. 

Philip  had  remained,  during  all  this  confusion,  without 
the  slightest  manifestation  .of  alarm.  While  the.  storm 
raged,  he  stood  in  the  midst,  like  a  statue  of  bronze  stand 
ing  in  the  market-place  of  a  turbulent  city,  immoveable  and 
calm.  When  the  "first  agitation  had  a  little  subsided,  he 
spent  a  moment  in  consultation  with  the  priests,  who  in  vain 
sought  to  persuade  him  that  the  shapes  visible  in  the  sky 
were  fearful  omens  of  his  own  defeat  in  the  projected  war 


58  MOUNT     HOPE. 

with  the  English.  He  broke  hastily  away  from  the  poor 
suppliants,  and  turned  to  address  the  almost  distracted 
throng  that  gathered  hurriedly  about  him. 

He  cast  a  long,  earnest  look  at  the  spectres  that  still 
danced  in  the  sky,  as  if  he  read  in  the  blue  depths  of  the 
aether  in  which  their  uncertain  forms  were  imaged  the  des 
tiny  of  the  Indian.  Then,  at  a  single  gesture  of  his  hand, 
the  voice  of  wail  was  hushed,  the  distorted  face  reassumed 
its  wonted  composure,  and  the  passions  of  the  savage  mul 
titude  shrunk  into  annihilation  before  the  eye  of  the  king, 
that  seemed  to  set  at  nought  the  elements  and  the  gods  that 
ruled  them,  as  well  as  man. 

At  first  his  utterance,  though  sweet  and  musical,  was 
low,  and  scarcely  audible ;  but  it  gradually  grew  in  com 
pass  and  power,  till  its  deep,  full  tones  thrilled  every  nerve 
of  the  vast  council,  and  bore  them  along  in  the  current  of 
the  one  grand  purpose  for  which  alone  he  lived,  as  a  cluster 
of  dry  leaves  is  swayed  in  the  northern  blast.  The  start 
ling,  abrupt  language,  to  which  civilized  life  is  a  stranger, 
whirled  on,  in  a  torrent  as  rapid  as  it  was  turbid,  the  passions 
of  those  who  hung  upon  his  lips.  Nor  did  that  masterly 
insight  into  the  secret  springs  of  human  nature,  which  he 
possessed  even  in  a  greater  degree  than  his  renowned  father 
had  ever  done,  forsake  him  on  this  occasion.  He  saw  that 
he  must  work  upon  their  minds  through  the  medium  of 
their  superstitions :  he  spoke  of  the  religious  sacrifices  and 
devotion  of  his  fathers — of  the  power  of  the  Spirit  of  Evil — 
and  then  turned  the  appearances  in  the  heavens  into  omens 
of  good  to  the  Indian  and  of  evil  to  the  English. 

"  Pometacom  bears  the  burden  of  his  people,  but  Hobbo- 
mocko  is  more  mighty  than  he.  His  arrow  is  deadly  when 
it  flies  on  the  wings  of  the  night.  It  strikes  the  heart  of 
the  pale-faces.  The  hunter  comes  for  his  game.  Hobbo- 


MOUNT     HOPE.  59 

mocko  and  Pometacom  are  one  god.  Let  the  sacrifice  be 
kindled.  Let  the  wampum  and  the  weapons  of  war  be  cast 
into  the  flame.  Feast  the  soul  of  Hobo  mocko  withers/" 

In  a  moment  every  man  flew  to  the  woods  that  still  cov 
ered  the  steep  sides  of  Mount  Hope.  But  the  council- 
ground  did  not  long  remain  deserted.  The  swiftest  and 
most  eager  soon  reappeared,  emerging  from  the  thicket, 
heavily  laden  with  branches  of  hemlock,  pine,  and  other 
combustibles,  which  lay  scattered  over  the  rocks  in  profuse 
abundance.  As  they  came  up,  one  after  another,  the 
priests  proceeded  to  arrange  the  fuel  regularly  upon  the 
altar.  It  was  so  placed  as  to  present  the  dryest  and  best- 
seasoned  branches  nearest  the  surface.  The  huge  pile 
now  towered  above  the  reach  of  the  tallest  warriors.  When 
the  structure  was  completed,  the  chief  powaw  motioned 
them  to  their  places,  to  witness  the  consummation  of  the 
ceremonial.  The  priests  applied  their  torches  to  various 
parts  of  the  pyre  at  the  same  time,  and  with  the  speed  of 
thought  it  was  wrapped  in  a  broad  conflagration.  The 
flames  rose  without  the  least  agitation  from  the  wind,  till 
they  reached  the  highest  boughs  of  the  oak  that  stood  near 
est  the  spot,  shrivelling  with  their  hot  breath  the  green 
leaves  and  crackling  limbs  with  which  they  came  in  contact. 
Then,  as  if  by  universal  consent,  all  brought  forward  their 
various  offerings,  and  cast  them  into  the  fire.  Beads  and 
girdles — the  carved  war-club,  and  the  axe  of  red  stone — 
the  bow  and  its  flinty  barb,  winged  for  the  most  unerring 
flight — all  things  precious  and  of  more  common  use  among 
the  worshippers,  were  mingled  promiscuously  in  wasteful 
destruction,  without  a  sigh  of  regret  at  the  loss  of  property, 
the  slow  accumulation  of  so  many  years  of  toil. 

During  this  part  of  the  ceremony,  the  priests  stood  with 
outspread  hands,  and  faces  uplifted  toward  the  north,  in  the 
silent  attitude  of  devotion. 


60  MOUNTHOPE. 

When  the  offerings  were  wholly  exhausted,  they  again 
flung  themselves  into  a  ring  about  the  fire,  and  closed  with 
dance  and  song  the  honours  of  the  feared  yet  hated 
Hobbomocko.  His  temple  was  the  open  sky,  his  altar  was 
the  wilderness,  his  ministers  were  the  sons  of  nature.  Let 
him  who  never  bowed  the  knee  to  folly,  nor  worshipped  an 
idol  which  his  reason  and  conscience  taught  him  to  despise, 
chide  the  aborigine  for  his  religion ;  but  let  him  who  cannot 
boast  of  such  an  indemnity,  be  the  first  to  pity  and  the  last 
to  condemn. 


MOUNT     HOPE.  61 


CHAPTER   VII. 

«  Olencoe.    A  spirited  young  Highlander  in  faith ! 

Let  mo  enlist  you  in  our  troop ;  we  toach 

Some  manners  that  you  lack. 
"blaster.  And  let  me  lack  them, 

Ere  I  endure  your  teaching." 
Ion. 

IN  those  early  days,  which  may  well  be  called  the 
infancy  of  the  colonies,  the  town  of  Boston  was,  as  it  has 
ever  since  remained,  the  centre  of  commerce  and  of  every 
business  enterprise  in  New  England. 

The  face  of  the  country  where  this  now  magnificent 
emporium  looks  off  upon  the  sea,  has  been  so  much  changed 
since  that  day  by  the  construction  of  bridges  and  the 
unremitting  efforts  of  the  inhabitants — almost  equalling 
those  of  the  citizens  of  ancient  Tyre  to  redeem  the  land 
from  the  encroaching  dominion  of  the  wave — that  the 
metropolis  of  to-day  might  well  seem  to  occupy  another 
site  than  the  circumscribed  and  uneven  peninsula  on  which 
stood  the  Boston  of  the  seventeenth  century :  which,  to  use 
the  words  of  a  quaint  old  author,  was  "  environed  with  the 
brinish  flood,  saving  one  small  Isthmus,  which  gives  free 
access  to  the  neighbouring  towns  by  land  on  the  south  side, 
on  the  north-west  and  north-east."  This  peninsula  was  at 
that  time  about  three  miles  in  length,  and  contained  seven 
hundred  acres  of  land,  rendered  wild  and  uneven  by 
numerous  hills,  then  covered  with  a  luxuriant  burden  of 
trees  and  undergrowth.  Three  eminences,  higher  than 
the  rest,  towered  above  that  noble  harbour,  where  the 

6 


62  MOUNTHOPE. 

united  navies  of  Europe  might  have  anchored  securely, 
and  into  which  the  Mystic,  Charles,  Neponset,  and  other 
rivers,  yet  untrammelled  by  a  single  arch  or  pier,  poured 
their  abundant  waters.  These  three  eminences  seemed  the 
natural  fortifications  of  the  town.  Two  of  them,  rising  out 
of  the  sea,  formed  the  protection  of  the  city;  one  of  which 
was  thoroughly  fortified  upon  its  summit  with  well-mounted 
guns,  and  the  other  was  surmounted  by  a  strong  battery. 
Between  these  two  hills  lay  a  secluded  cove,  upon  and 
around  which  the  city  was  built,  with  another  hill  rising 
out  of  its  midst,  like  the  dome  of  an  ancient  cathedral. 
"All  these,"  says  the  chronicler  above  quoted,  "like  over 
topping  towers,  keep  a  constant  watch  to  see  the  approach 
of  foreign  dangers,  being  furnished  with  a  beacon  and 
loud-babbling  guns,  to  give  notice  by  their  redoubled  echo 
to  all  the  sister- towns."  The  large  commercial  business 
of  the  town  had  given  the  population  some  elements  of 
character  not  possessed  by  the  more  provincial  districts. 
There  was  in  the  general  appearance  of  the  citizens,  as 
they  walked  the  streets,  or  stood  behind  the  counter,  much 
of  the  ease  of  manner  and  facility  of  conversation  which 
is  acquired  only  by  mingling  with  the  men,  and  becoming 
conversant  with  the  customs,  of  the  various  nations  of 
the  world. 

At  this  time,  on  account  of  the  rumours  that  were 
abroad  of  a  threatened  invasion  from  the  Indians,  the  fort 
was  kept  in  a  state  of  defence,  and  the  town  in  preparation 
for  any  sudden  alarm. 

On  the  25th  day  of  June,  as  the  sun  had  nearly  attained 
its  meridian,  and  the  busy  hum  of  the  town  died  away  in 
the  tranquillity  of  the  hour,  when  nature  as  well  as  man 
seems  to  seek  a  brief  interval  of  repose,  the  area  of  the 
fort  upon  the  hill  above  described  presented  an  appearance 


MOUNTHOPE.  63 

which,  however  ill  it  might  comport  with  our  ideas  of  a 
modern  fortification,  would  not  have  been  without  interest, 
even  to  the  most  careless  spectator.  Leaning  against  one 
of  the  guns  that  looked  off  upon  the  harbour,  stood  a  dark- 
browed  man,  between  fifty  and  sixty  years  of  age,  whose 
complexion  seemed  to  bespeak  a  life  passed  under  the 
intense  heat  of  a  tropical  sun,  and  whose  features,  far 
from  regular,  bore  the  indelible  traces  of  rough  hardship 
and  unremitting  toil.  His  keen,  dark  eye,  broad  mouth, 
bold  forehead,  and  a  certain  air  of  cool,  determined  cour 
age,  made  it  obvious  at  first  sight  that  he  was  not  a  man 
who  could  be  safely  trifled  with.  His  figure  was  rather 
under  the  middle  height,  but  the  chest  was  of  uncommon 
breadth,  and  the  whole  person  indicated  great  strength 
rather  than  activity.  His  voice  was  quick  and  authorita 
tive,  and  his  manner  that  of  a  man  who  brooks  no  contra 
diction,  and  who  has  been  long  used  to  hold  in  check  the 
worst  passions  of  the  most  desperate  men.  Such,  as  near  as 
we  can  describe  it,  was  the  appearance  of  Samuel  Moseley, 
a  privateer  then  lately  from  Jamaica,  who  had  long  been 
familiar  with  sights  of  blood  and  carnage  on  the  high  seas, 
and  who  would  have  seen  the  hold  of  the  ship  that  called 
him  master  filling  with  water,  or  an  enemy  boarding  her  in 
the  flush  of  victory,  and  betrayed  no  token,  nor  felt  a 
sensation  of  fear.  Around  him  stood  or  sat,  as  best  suited 
their  convenience,  about  a  dozen  of  his  officers  and  men, 
all  tried  and  true,  knowing  no  law  beyond  his  will — priva 
teers  of  the  true  stamp,  who  would  have  cut  the  throats  of 
the  governor  and  all  the  council  with  the  broad  Spanish 
blades  which  they  carried  at  their  belts,  had  the  captain 
signified  it  to  be  his  good  pleasure. 

Opposite  the  captain,  with  his  breast  against  the  muzzle 
of  another  gun,  and  his  arms  half-embracing  its  iron  neck, 


64  MOUNT     HJ2PE. 

stood  a  young  man,  who  could  not  have  been  above  two- 
and-twenty  years  of  age,  of  a  firmly-knit  though  slender 
figure,  long  dark  hair,  large  gray  eyes,  features  of  perfect 
regularity,  and  of  the  most  manly  mould.  There  was  little 
in  his  brown  coat  and  plain  seaman's  cap  to  distinguish 
him  from  the  rest  of  the  privateers ;  but  his  address  and 
bearing  seemed  to  belong  to  the  court  and  camp,  rather 
than  to  the  deck  of  a  privateersman ;  and  an  eye  well 
skilled  in  noting  the  various  ranks  and  grades  of  life,  would 
have  recognised  him  at  once  as  one  who,  as  well  by  birth 
as  breeding,  could  have  little  in  common  with  the  men  in 
whose  company  he  was  found,  and  over  whose  destinies — 
with  the  free  consent  of  the  captain,  of  whom  he  was  an 
especial  favourite — he  exercised  no  little  controul. 

For  the  present,  he  must  pass  under  the  name  of  Lieu 
tenant  Ashfbrd,  a  name  which  he  bore,  not  without  some 
colour  of  right.  Though  his  eye  evinced  something  of  the 
impetuosity  of  one  who  had  known  little  restraint,  yet  it 
had  nothing  of  the  quick  versatility  too  common  among 
those  who  are  called  young  men  of  parts,  and  which  often 
is  significant  only  of  a  playful  and  easy  variety  of  powers, 
that  lures  fhe  unhappy  possessor  into  a  thousand  inextrica 
ble  snares,  and  ends  in  hopeless  lamentation  over  baffled 
projects,  too  rashly  undertaken  and  too  soon  abandoned,  or 
a  life  wasted  in  idle  dreams*  In  him,  this  impetuosity  of 
expression  seemed  .only  auxiliary  to  strong  powers  arid  a 
self-sustaining  purpose,  which  Would  acquire  new  vigour 
from  the  obstacles  that  stood  in  the  way  of  its  ascent,  as  the 
muscles  of  the  human  frame  become  at  the  same  time 
indurated  and  elastic  by  climbing  over  rough  passes,  and 
ascending  steep  and  difficult  eminences.  He  was  proud 
and  imperious;  but  so  far  from  losing  any  thing  of  the 
good  esteem  of  his  comrades  by  these  qualities,  they  were 
so  happily  blended  with  generosity  and  undisguised  good- 


MOUNT     HOPE.  65 

nature,  and  softened  by  a  natural  and  easy  flow  of  rich 
and  varied  eloquence,  that  his  character  would  have  seemed 
imperfect,  had  it  wanted  them.  Yet  there  were  those  who 
said  they  had  seen  him  in  moments  of  passion,  when  his 
eyes  were  dilated  to  an  unnatural  size,  and  burned  like 
balls  of  fire;  and  thai:  they  verily  thought  the  captain 
himself,  on  such  occasions,  had  rather  encounter  the  devil 
than  his  lieutenant.  What  was  his  parentage,  where  he 
was  born,  or  why  he  had  thrown  away  so  many  gifts  upon 
so  untoward  and  so  unambitious  a  calling,  no  one  knew. 
Even  Captain  Moseley  could  give  no  account  of  him,  except 
that  he  had  received  him  into  his  employ  when  a  frolick- 
some  madcap  youth  of  sixteen,  and  that  he  dared  take  a 
sailor's  oath  that  he  was  a  gentleman  born ;  and  he  used  to 
add,  with  a  sigh,  that  "  if  he  could  live  till  his  smooth  fore 
head  could  boast  a  few  wrinkles,  and  those  boyish  locks 
that  curled  about  his  temples  were  dashed  with  a  grain  or 
two  of  silver ;  and  if  the  good  old  times  of  the  Protector 
could  return,  there  was  not  a  place  in  the  kingdom  but  the 
dear  lad  might  aspire  to  it."  Although  his  stay  in  Boston 
had  been  short,  he  had  already  acquired  a  popularity  not 
often  awarded  by  that  staid  and  sober-minded  people  to 
long-haired,  cavalier-looking  young  gentlemen,  and  was 
understood  to  be  in  the  confidence  of  Governor  Leverett. 

After  sitting  listlessly  for  some  time,  now  looking  with 
the  habitual  eye  of  a  sailor  to  the  bay,  and  then  to  the  sky, 
as  if  to  see  whether  the  elements  promised  fair  or  adverse 
for  the  night,  and  now  again  glancing  at  the  town  with  the 
apparent  desire  of.  seeing  or  hearing  something  that  might 
relieve  the  dullness  of  the  hour,  by  affording  a  theme  for 
brief  discourse,  Captain  Moseley  turned  suddenly  to  Ashford, 
and  commenced  a  conversation  in  his  usual  abrupt  style, 
of  which  the  following  is  a  fair  illustration : 
6* 


66        ,  MOUNT     HOPE. 

"What  sayest  thou,  Billy  Ashford,  is  not  this  sea-gull's 
life — half  land  and  half  water — ill  to  thy  taste  ?  Here  we 
sit  by  the  hour,  watching  here  and  there  a  solitary  heron, 
or  a  flock  of  wild-fowl,  fly  across  this  silly  neck  of  land,  not 
so  broad  as  a  bowsprit ,  or,  what  is  much  to  the  same  pur 
pose,  unless  we  shared  in  the  traffic,  here  and  there  a  bit 
of  canvas — English,  Dutch,  Spanish,  and  mayhap  Portu 
guese — fluttering  into  the  harbour.  By  the  bones  of 
Oliver,  I  pine  for  the  rough  sea.  What  would'st  thou  say 
to  a  snug,  tight-made  frigate,  a  crew  that  will  stand  by  the 
guns  after  main  and  mizzen  are  both  splintered,  and  sails 
riddled  with  shot — or  breezes  of  balm,  and  islands  of  the 
yam  and  the  banana  ?" 

"I  am  ready,  captain,  for  any  change,  after  I  shall  have 
accomplished  a  certain  project  which  I  have  in  hand. 
Then  I  will  follow  your  prow  into  whatever  sea  it  may 
venture,  though  it  should  ride  a  wave  to  rival  Chimborazo !" 

"And  what  is  this  urgent  affair?  I  question  not,  it  is 
some  bubble  of  a  woman  that  floats  on  the  surface  of  that 
fancy  of  thine.  Ah !  Billy  Ashford,  silks  and  feathers  will 
one  day  be  the  death  of  thee.  And,  now  I  bethink  me,  if 
those  murderous  savages,  of  whom  the  colonists  seem  to 
stand  in  such  fear,  would  verify  the  apprehensions  of  the  com 
missioners  of  the  United  Colonies,  and  make  business  for  us 
privateers,  I  like  the  country  and  the  people  so  well,  that  I 
would  willingly  spend  my  days  among  them ;  but  we  may 
wait  till  the  tribes  of  the  wilderness  are  extinct,  before  we 
shall  have  to  deal  with  them.  But,  look  yonder  in  the  street : 
what  a  crowd  of  men  and  boys,  hurrying  backwards  and 
forwards,  and  gathering  in  front  of  the  commissioners'  hall." 

"And  hark!"  replied  Ashford;  "I  hear  the  beat  of  a 
drum ;  and  yonder  is  another  crowd  of  citizens  rushing 
towards  the  fort.  My  sword  for  a  wager,  there  is  news 
from  Philip  at  last." 


MOUNTHOPE.  67 

"Any  news  is  good  news,"  responded  Moseley,  impa 
tiently;  "but  yonder  is  a  member  of  his  excellency's 
household,  and  I  should  know  by  his  gait  that  he  is  the 
same  silent  little  gentleman  who  has  done  the  governor's 
bidding  to  us  before." 

"  You  are  right,  captain ;  and  the  fellow  moves,  for  the 
first  time  in  his  life,  as  if  he  had  forgotten  that  he  repre 
sented  the  dignity  of  the  magistrate,  who,  as  he  would  say, 
'beareth  not  the  sword  in  vain.'" 

"  Tush !  lieutenant,  thou  art  not  on  the  high  seas,  man ; 
and,  hark'ee !  would  it  not  be  better  to  lay  the  axe  a  little 
to  the  root  of  that  forest  of  long  hair?  This  same  magistrate 
may  prune  its  clusters  some  day,  and  have  the  warrant  of 
an  apostle  for  that  too." 

"Nay,  captain,  I  will  dress  as  I  please,  and  wear  my 
hair  as  I  please,  laugh  when  I  please,  and  be  a  good  com 
monwealth's  man  for  all  that.  Nay,  it  is  possible  I  may 
make  my  poor  services  so  much  needed  in  this  colony,  that 
the  authorities  will  be  willing  to  excuse  a  slight  deviation 
from  the  uniformity  of  their  fashions." 

"You  do  not  know,  perhaps,  that  I  may  have  as  close 
affinities  with  the  long-haired  party  as  if  I  had  been  cousin 
'to  the  king.'" 

The  messenger,  who  had  furnished  matter  for  the  above 
dialogue,  now  made  his  near  approach  to  the  place  where 
the  parties  to  it  were  awaiting  his  arrival,  and  proved  to  be 
no  less  a  person  than  Mr.  Ezekiel  Stimpson,  a  dignitary  of 
the  town,  as  the  constable's  staff  which  he  flourished  in  his 
right  hand  bore  testimony,  even  had  the  excessive  prim 
ness  of  his  dress,  the  extreme  shortness  of  his  hair,  and 
the  freezing  solemnity  of  his  manner,  failed  to  substantiate 
so  important  a  claim.  He  pulled  off  his  hat,  and  made  a 
stiff,  consequential  bow,  as  he  stepped  within  two  yards  of 


68  MOUNT     HOPE. 

the  privateers,  and  seemed  to  expect  the  same  salutation  in 
return.  But  the  captain  still  retained  his  seat  on  the  gun, 
and  replied  only  with  an  indifferent  "  Good  morning  to  ye, 
worthy  Constable  Stimpson;"  and  the  keen  eye  of  Ashford 
darted  on  him  such  a  glance  of  ill-disguised  contempt  as 
seemed  to  pierce  for  a  moment  the  halo  of  official  mystery 
with  which  the  baton  of  office,  like  the  wand  of  a  conjuror, 
had  invested  him ;  heightened  not  a  little  by  the  consider 
ation  that  he  bore  the  governor's  messages,  and  was  con 
cerned  about  affairs  of  state. 

"His  excellency,"  said  the  constable,  after  coughing  and 
clearing  his  voice,  by  way  of  preliminary  to  what  he  was 
about  to  communicate,  "has  sent  me,  his  humble  servant, 
to  ask  the  attendance  of  Captain  Moseley  in  town  imme 
diately,  on  business  of  great  importance  to  the  common 
wealth  and  to  the  people  of  God  in  his  western  churches." 

"  I  will  attend  him  without  delay,"  replied  the  captain, 
starting  up  and  preparing  to  go.  "But  what  is  the  mean 
ing  of  yonder  beating  of  drums?" 

"Ah!  captain,"  replied  Stimpson,  with  a  groan,  "the 
Philistines  are  upon  us!" 

Then,  stepping  close  to  Ashford,  he  slipped  into  his  hand 
a  small  note,  neatly  sealed ;  and  whispering  in  his  ear  a 
caution,  that  the  contents  must  be  kept  secret  as  the  place 
"  where  there  is  neither  knowledge,  device,  nor  invention," 
he  bowed  and  withdrew. 

"'How  like  a  fawning  publican  he  looks,'"  muttered 
Ashford  to  himself,  as  he  saw  him  turn  to  depart.  I  thank 
my  God  I  have  inherited  the  blood  both  of  the  independent 
and  of  the  cavalier,  without  the  cant  of  the  one  or  the 
dissoluteness  of  the  other.  But  what  says  this  precious 
billet?"  He  broke  the  seal  and  read  as  follows: 


MOUNT    HOPE.  69 

"To  LIEUT.  ASHFORD. 

"Sm:  In  behalf  of  the  Hon.  Court  of  Commissioners,  I  am 
desired  to  say  that  business  of  moment,  and  requiring  dis 
patch,  has  been  intrusted  to  your  hands,  the  performance  of 
which  may  call  you  to  a  place  more  remote  and  through  paths 
more  dangerous  than  I  could  desire.  If  you  dare  do  that  with 
which  we  willingly  entrust  you,  come  to  my  lodgings  at  ten  of 
the  clock  this  evening.  Provide  a  fleet  horse,  and  all  needful 
equipments  for  a  long  journey,  and  come  armed.  By  so  doing, 
you  may  put  yourself  in  a  way  of  mending  your  fortune,  and  may 
find  that  which  you  would  not  willingly  lose,  a  friend,  in 

"JNO.  WlNTHROP." 

While  Ashford  was  perusing  the  above  epistle,  and 
pondering  over  its  contents,  Captain  Moseley  hastened  to 
join  Governor  Leverett,  whom  he  found  in  full  military 
dress,  mounted  on  a  spirited  horse,  and  directing  every 
thing  for  the  intended  expedition  against  the  Indians,  with 
great  ability  and  address.  The  command  of  the  enter 
prise  was  given  to  Moseley,  and  in  less  than  three  hours  he 
had  marshalled  one  hundred  and  ten  men,  well  armed  for 
the  campaign,  among  whom  were  about  a  dozen  of  his 
privateers,  men  tried  and  true,  and  Cornelius,  a  Dutch 
pirate,  who  had  been  sentenced  to  death,  but  who  was  now 
pardoned  on  the  promise  of  rendering  faithful  service  in 
the  approaching  campaign.  Of  him,  we  shall  have  occa 
sion  to  speak  hereafter.  Moseley  had  also  in  his  charge 
several  large  blood-hounds,  which  he  had  brought  with 
him  from  Jamaica,  and  which  proved  "  excellent  allies'"  in 
searching  out  the  secret  hiding-places  of  the  enemy.  The 
little  army  set  out  on  their  march  early  the  next  morning 
(the  26th  of  June),  and  arrived  at  Swansey  on  the  28th,  a 
little  before  sunset. 

It  was  precisely  ten  o'clock  when  Ashford  knocked  at 


70  MOUNTHOPE. 

the  door  where  Governor  Winthrop  had  taken  up  his  tem 
porary  abode.  An  Indian,  boy,  dressed  in  the  garb  of  an 
English  servant,  soon  appeared,  and  ushered  the  young 
officer  through  a  long  low  hall,  and  then  up  a  narrow  and 
steep  stair-case ;  and,  throwing  open  the  first  door  at  the 
top  of  the  stairs,  left  him  alone  in  the  study  of  the  great 
statesman  and  elegant  courtier,  whose  praise  was  then  in 
every  mouth  in  America — the  favoured  friend  of  Charles 
the  Second,  the  most  capricious  of  monarchs  that  ever  sat 
on  the  English  throne,  and  the  steady  defender  of  every 
principle  with  which  that  monarch  was  at  war.  Ashford 
sat  down  in  a  high-backed  oaken  chair  of  the  times  of 
Queen  Elizabeth,  that  stood  in  one  corner  of  the  room,  and 
was  busying  himself  with  conjecturing  what  would  be  the 
result  of  the  mysterious  interview,  when  the  governor 
entered  the  apartment. 

"Precise  at  the  moment,  my  bold  privateer,"  said  Gov 
ernor  Winthrop,  stepping  forward,  and  taking  his  visiter  by 
the  hand  with  that  hearty  freedom  and  openness  of  manner 
for  which  he  was  so  distinguished  in  private  life,  and  which 
bound  to  him  with  ties  not  easily  broken  the  heart  of  every 
one  with  whom  he  ever  formed  an  acquaintance. 

"Your  excellency's  will  is  a  law  to  me,"  replied  the 
young  gentleman.  "I  am  come  prepared  to  serve  you,  if 
your  commands  lie  within  the  compass  of  my  poor  abilities." 

The  ingenuous  smile  and  look  of  enthusiastic  warmth 
that  accompanied  this  declaration  won  instantly  upon  the 
regard  of  the  old  statesman.  Although  his  sensibilities 
were  readily  awakened,  yet  they  never  outran  his  judg 
ment,  and  few  men  have  ever  lived  who  have  exhibited  a 
more  intuitive  knowledge  of  character  than  John  Winthrop 
of  Connecticut.  As  he  looked  at  the  handsome  features 
of  the  youth,  lighted  up  with  a  smile,  and  glowing  with  the 


MOUNT     HOPE.  71 

prospect  of  some  achievement  that  might  give  play  to  facul 
ties  that  seemed  to  have  rested  long  in  repose,  he  felt  that 
he  could  trust  and  love  him :  and  as  he  surveyed  the 
graceful  yet  sinewy  figure,  set  off  to  the  most  favourable 
advantage  by  the  tightly-fitting  riding-dress  in  which  he 
had  presented  himself  ready  equipped  and  prompt  to  obey 
orders,  he  thought  that  he  had  never  seen  a  youth  of  so 
martial  and  at  the  same  time  so  courtly  a  bearing,  and  one 
who  so  perfectly  represented  his  lean  ideal  of  a  cavalier. 

"I  have  sent  for  you,"  said  Winthrop — as  he  removed 
the  chair  from  which  his  visiter  had  arisen,  and  placed  it 
by  the  table,  at  the  same  time  motioning  Ash  ford  to  be 
seated,  while  he  drew  his  own  large  arm-chair  familiarly 
near  him — "  I  have  sent  for  you,  as  the  only  person  whom 
f  I  knew  to  be  qualified  for  a  dangerous  journey  through  an 
uninhabited  wilderness,  upon  an  errand  of  the  last  import 
ance  to  the  destinies  of  the  New  England  colonies — one 
which,  perhaps,  involves  their  very  existence." 

"Speak  on:  I  am  breathless  with  anxiety  to  know  my 
destination,"  said  Ashford. 

"In  the  enthusiasm  of  youth,"  resumed  the  venerable 
old  man — a  tear  stealing  down  his  cheek  as  he  spoke — "  I 
took  upon  me  the  care  of  nourishing  an  infant  colony  in 
the  valley  of  the  Connecticut — a  retreat  from  the  world 
which  then  seemed  to  me  as  lovely  and  secluded  as  ever 
recluse  of  the  middle  ages  sought  out  for  his  retirement,  or 
my  loving  friend,  Mr.  Milton,  ever  fancied  to  himself  in  the 
happiest  moment  of  inspiration.  In  the  care  and  protection 
of  this  colony  I  have  spent  my  life.  Through  fair  and 
rough  weather,  through  evil  and  good  fortune,  I  have  been 
constant  in  my  affection  to  this  my  adopted  child,  and  she 
has  requited  all  my  labours  with  a  filial  confidence  and  a 
love  that  has  known  neither  interruption  nor  satiety ;  and 


72  MOUNT     HOPE. 

now,  in  my  old  age,  I  look  upon  this  colony  with  pride,  as 
the  safest  hiding-place  from  the  tyranny  of  the  old  world, 
and  shall  die — an  event  not  very  remote — in  the  full 
expectation  that  its  people  will  go  on  as  they  have  begun, 
and  live  for  ages  without  commotion  or  revolution.  It  is 
now  my  purpose  to  send  a  letter  to  Major  Treat,  who  has 
the  command  of  the  military  forces  of  the  colony,  giving 
him  instructions  how  to  proceed  in  raising  our  quota  of 
troops  for  the  war  that  now  threatens  the  total  destruction 
of  New  England.  I  need  despatch  and  secresy — a  bold 
heart  and  a  ready  hand.  The  journey  must  be  performed 
on  horseback,  and  through  a  desolate  wilderness  inhabited 
by  hostile  Indians.  What  say  you,  my  young  friend — will 
you  undertake  to  be  the  emissary  ?" 

"With  all  my  heart.  Nothing  but  the  total  extinction 
of  my  life  shall  prevent  the  execution  of  your  excellency's 
orders." 

"When  will  you  commence  the  journey?" 

"  At  day-break." 

"It  is  well.  I  shall  have  no  fears  of  the  mission  in  such 
hands.  Stay  a  little,  and  I  will  give  you  written  instructions 
for  Major  Treat.  You  will  find  him  a  stern  old  soldier  in 
his  exterior,  but  he  has  a  gentle  heart,  and  will  give  you  a, 
post  of  honour  in  his  corps." 

While  the  governor  was  writing  this  hasty  epistle,  Ashford 
had  time  to  examine  more  minutely  the  dress  and  personal 
appearance  of  the  writer.  He  was  a  little  above  the  middle 
stature,  with  a  figure  remarkably  well  proportioned,  though 
now  somewhat  bowed  by  age.  The  symmetrical,  yet 
peculiarly  English,  forehead — the  full,  dark  eye,  shaded 
(as  may  still  be  seen  in  the  portraits  that  remain  of  him) 
by  eyebrows  forming  almost  a  gothic  arch  in  their  high 
curve — the  lip  and  chin,  so  unlike  the  upper  portions  of  the 


MOUNTHOPE.  73 

face,  classical  as  if  they  had  been  parts  of  an  antique  statue 
— the  long,  wavy,  white  hair,  parted  upon  the  brow  and 
falling  gracefully  over  the  closely-fitting  collar — above  all, 
the  expression  of  the  countenance,  so  calm  and  thoughtful, 
and  at  the  same  time  of  such  a  benignant  sweetness — might 
well  seem  to  Ashford  to  represent  the  very  Genius  of  self- 
government,  divested  of  the  superstition  and  rigid  charac 
teristics  of  the  time,  kindling  with  a  noble  enthusiasm  at  the 
contemplation  of  the  brief  history  of  the  new  world,  and 
looking  forward  with  an  unwavering  trust  and  prophetic 
eye  to  its  future  destinies.  He  wore  a  plain  black  velvet 
coat,  shorts  of  the  same  material,  a  white  satin  waistcoat, 
and  black  silk  stockings,  with  morocco  shoes,  fastened  and 
at  the  same  time  almost  hidden  by  the  massive  and  ever- 
memorable  shoe-buckle,  then  and  long  after  a  distinguishing 
mark  of  the  better  classes  in  New  England.  Such  was 
the  appearance  and  dress  of  the  man  who  could  one  day 
amuse  the  most  trivial  and  fastidious  of  English  monarchs 
with  humorous  anecdotes  of  America,  or  playful  common 
places  of  every-day  occurrence  in  the  silken  retreats  of 
Buckingham  Palace,  while  the  boyish  Stuart  clapped  his 
hands,  and  swore  a  kingly  oath  that  he  was  a  necromancer, 
and  could  coax  him  out  of  his  crown-jewels,  and  ended  by 
giving  him  permission  to  fill  out  his  own  charter  to  suit 
himself.  Such  was  the  man  who  could  pass  from  the 
presence  of  royalty  with  a  more  profound  reverence  and 
equal  assurance  of  welcome  under  the  low  porch  of  the 
cottage  where  the  great  Milton  hid  from  the  world  his 
poverty  and  his  wrongs,  and  mingled  the  deep  tones  of  his 
voice  with  those  of  the  organ,  to  tranquillize  his  spirit  for  a 
music  that  was  one  day  to  enchant  the  world :  and  such 
was  the  man  whom  all  Americans  vied  with  each  other  in 

7 


74  MOUNT     HOPE. 

loving,  and  whom,  from  his  infinite  superiority  over  all 
others,  none  ever  thought  of  envying. 

"This  little  messenger,"  said  the  governor,  as  he  pre 
sented  the  letter  to  Ashford,  "  will  speed  our  business  right 
earnestly.  And  now,  my  young  friend,"  he  added,  play 
fully,  taking  Ashford's  hand  in  his,  and  walking  with  him 
to  the  door  of  the  chamber,  I  have  one  piece  of  advice  for 
you,  for  I  am  a  physician  as  well  as  a  magistrate  :  take 
care  of  your  health ;  youth  and  hope  are  nothing  without 
the  bounding  play  of  the  pulse :  ride  all  night  if  you  will, 
but  never  sleep  under  the  open  sky.  God  speed  you,  and 
farewell!" 

"Farewell!"  responded  Ashford;  and  in  a  moment  he 
was  in  the  street.  The  lights  had  died  away  in  the  city, 
and  it  was  twelve  o'clock  before  he  reached  the  inn  where 
he  was  to  pass  the  little  that  remained  of  the  night. 


MOUNTHOPE.  75 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"  From  din  and  pageantry  and  strife, 

Midst  woods  and  mountains,  vales  and  plains, 
She  treads  the  paths  of  purer  life, 

And  in  Affection's  bosom  reigns : 
No  fountain,  scattering  diamond-showers, 
But  the  sweet  streamlet  edged  with  flowers!" 

MONTGOMERY. 

IT  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  Anne  Willoughby 
awoke  from  the  profound  slumber  that  followed  the  fatigue 
of  her  journey  through  the  wilderness.  The  dark  shadows 
of  the  trees  mantled  over  the  stream,  that  still  remained 
swollen  and  turbid  as  it  rushed  into  the  pool  below.  She 
arose  and  looked  around  her  for  the  Indians,  whom  she 
left  sleeping  upon  the  rock,  but  not  one  of  them  remained. 
A  little  further  down  the  channel  were  three  or  four  figures, 
dimly  seen  through  the  laurel  and  small  hazel-bushes  that 
grew  close  upon  the  bank,  seated  around  a  fire  that  sent 
up  its  slender  column  of  thin  white  smoke,  curling  lazily 
among  the  tops  of  the  trees.  A  little  way  off,  upon  the 
decayed  trunk  of  a  fallen  pine,  sat  another  Indian,  smoking 
a  long-stemmed  pipe  of  red  stone,  with  his  eyes  intently 
fixed  on  her;  and  by  his  side,  his  head  resting  upon  his 
hand,  sat  a  man  apparently  about  forty  years  of  age,  who 
wore  the  dress  and  seemed  to  have  the  features  of  an 
Englishman.  His  head  was  uncovered,  and  his  long  black 
hair  played  carelessly  about  his  forehead  in  the  cool 
western  breeze  that  wandered  up  the  glen.  A  silver- 
mounted  rifle  rested  against  a  small  birch-tree  that  stood 
near  his  feet,  upon  a  bough  of  which  hung  a  black  velvet 


70  MOUNTHOPE. 

cap,  a  powder-horn,  and  a  pair  of  heavy  trooper's  pistols. 
He  soon  started  up,  and  walked  slowly  to  the  rock  where 
the  young  lady  was  seated.  He  approached  within  two  or 
three  yards  of  her,  and  then  stopped  suddenly ;  and  making 
a  low  bow,  the  humility  of  which  comported  but  ill  with  the 
cynical  expression  of  his  countenance,  thus  addressed  her : 

"You  see  before  you,  fair  lady,  a  humble  servant  of  his 
most  gracious  majesty,  who  this  morning  left  his  temporary 
lodgings  in  a  neighbouring  town  on  a  fool's-errand,  hunting 
deer  among  these  tangled  woods.  A  fool's-errand  I  might 
well  have  called  it,  (for  I  have  lost  my  way,  and  must 
pass  the  night  upon  a  bed  of  wet  leaves,)  had  I  not  found 
an  angel  in  this  dismal  solitude.  Pardon  the  interest 
which  a  stranger  feels  at  sight  of  one  so  young  and  unpro 
tected  ;  for,  surely,  it  cannot  be  pleasure  or  accident  that 
has  led  thee  to  this  lonely  dell,  in  such  company,  and  at 
nightfall.  Tell  me ,  freely,  if  I  can  aid  thee." 

Notwithstanding  his  soft  voice,  there  was  a  tone  of 
assumption  and  superiority  in  the  manner  of  the  stranger 
that  offended  the  pride,  and  at  the  same  time  awakened  the 
fears  of  the  maiden.  She  felt  that  she  would  rather  trust 
herself  in  the  hands  of  those  who  had  so  adroitly  decoyed 
her  from  her  home,  and  were  leading  her  she  knew  not 
whither,  than  accept  the  protection  of  the  cold,  sinister- 
looking  cavalier,  who  had  thus  obtruded  himself  upon  her 
solitude.  Besides,  there  was  in  her  mind  a  dim  recollection 
that  she  had  seen  his  features  before,  but  where  or  when, 
she  was  unable  to  recall.  She  replied,  doubtingly : 

"  I  have  not  the  honour,  sir,  of  your  acquaintance,  and 
there  is  nothing  in  the  condition  in  which  your  misfortune 
has  placed  you  that  can  possibly  alleviate  my  own.  I  am 
in  the  hands  of  savages,  you  are  a  benighted  wanderer, 
and  I  can  see  no  way  in  which  I  could  receive  assistance  at 


MOUNT     HOPE.  77 

your  hands  without  involving  you  in  peril.  Accept  my  thar.;ks 
for  your  proffered  kindness,  and  leave  me  to  my  fate." 

"You  are  not  to  form  so  unfavourable  a  conclusion  of 
my  ability  to  aid  you,"  continued  the  huntsman,  with  the 
same  sinister  smile.  "  I  were  but  a  poor  cavalier,  in  sooth, 
to  leave  so  lovely  a  jewel  in  such  hands;  and  besides,  I 
have  more  sway  over  these  savages  than  you  may  have 
thought."  And  without  waiting  for  a  reply,  he  beckoned 
to  the  Indian  who  still  sat  upon  the  log  watching  them, 
with  the  same  imperturbable  gravity  with  which  he  had 
before  kept  his  eyes  upon  the  young  lady  when  alone. 
He  started  up  at  this  sign  from  the  Englishman,  and  step, 
ping  to  the  place  where  the  fire  still  sent  up  its  little  wrer' •* 
of  smoke,  disappeared  behind  a  wooded  knoll.  In  a  moment 
he  returned,  with  about  twenty  other  savages,  and  four 
men  who  wore  the  garb,  but  had  neither  the  air  nor 
gait  of  Indians.  They  came  hastily  up  the  bank  of  the 
stream,  and  stopped  near  the  rock  where  the  Englishman 
and  young  lady  were  standing. 

"You  see,  my  pretty  maiden,  that  these  captors  of  thine 
are  not  at  liberty  to  disobey  my  orders,"  said  the  English 
man.  "I  can  ransom  thee,  maiden;  but,  were  I  to  say 
the  word,  I  fear  that  I  should  scarcely  have  thy  gratitude 
for  my  guerdon." 

We  have  already  said  that  the  mind  of  Anne  Willoughby 
was  of  a  high  and  noble  mould,  and  that  education  and 
habit  had  inured  her  to  the  dangers  and  privations  of 'the 
wilderness.  She  had  been  carried  away  from  her  home, 
by  a  force  which  she  could  not  resist,  into  this  inhos 
pitable  region,  by  captors  who  were  only  acting  in  obe 
dience  to  the  laws  of  an  uncultivated  nature,  and  who, 
as  fancy  whispered,  might  be  led  to  adopt  this  method  of 
furthering  some  political  or  mercenary  motive.  But  that 

7* 


78  MOtTNTHOPE. 

an  Englishman,  bound  to  her  by  the  ties  of  common 
descent — one  who  spoke  of  himself  as  a  cavalier,  and  who 
certainly  had  the  appearance  and  address  of  a  gentleman — 
should  know  the  secret  movements  and  hiding-places  of 
these  savages,  and  boast  himself  able  to  control  their  con 
duct  towards  herself,  filled  her  mind  with  fearful  appre 
hensions.  Her  face  became  pale  as  marble,  as  she  looked 
in  the  cold,  smiling  face  of  the  man  who  had  mocked  her 
with  his  protection,  and  who,  she  doubted  not,  had  laid  for 
her  the  very  snare  into  which  she  had  so  artlessly  fallen. 

Observing  her  agitation,  he  hastened  to  her,  and  offered 
her  his  arm,  to  conduct  her,  as  he  said,  to  the  fire,  where 
refreshments  were  prepared  for  her ;  and  at  the  same  time 
protesting,  in  the  most  solemn  manner,  that  he  had  been 
actuated  by  the  kindliest  intentions,  and  that  he  would  soon 
explain  every  thing  to  her  satisfaction. 

This  effort  to  ca^m  her  fears,  quickened  to  a  ten-fold 
degree  the  instinctive  horror  which  she  felt  at  the  presence 
of  the  man,  while  it  brought  back  to  her  cheek  and  brow 
a  glow  of  indignant  scorn. 

"How  is  this,  sir,  that  calling  yourself  a  man  and  a 
servant  to  King  Charles,  you  dare,  by  such  instruments  as 
these,  to  decoy  from  her  home,  in  the  dead  of  night,  a  sub 
ject  of  that  gracious  monarch?  And  how,  with  the  name 
of  honour  fresh  upon  your  lips,  do  you  not  blush  that  the 
dupe  and  victim  of  your  cowardice  is  a  woman?" 

"  Hear  me — hear  me  but  for  a  moment !  and  if  I  do  not 
explain  every  thing  as  I  have  promised,  I  will  give  you 
leave  to  affix  to  my  name  the  opprobrium  of  which  you 
now  seem  to  think  it  so  deserving." 

"  Speak  on  then ;  I  will  listen." 

"  Know  then,  fair  lady,  that  although  you  do  not  seem  to 
recognise  my  features  in  this  desolate  place,  yet  I  have 


MOUNT     HOPE.  79 

often  gazed  with  rapture  upon  thine.  I  have  now  been  in 
America  six  months,  and  had  no  other  purpose,  when  I  sailed 
from  England,  than  to  find  out  and  bring  to  light,  from  their 
hiding-places  among  the  hills,  Edward  Whalley  and  Will 
iam  Goffe,  two  of  the  principal  actors  in  the  mock  trial  and 
sacrilegious  murder  of  our  late  sovereign  lord,  Charles  the 
First.  Some  suspicious  circumstances  led  me  to  hope  that 
they  might  lurk  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  little  village 
where  your  uncle  resides,  and  I  therefore  betook  myself 
thither,  in  the  hope  of  hearing  some  tidings  of  the  murder 
ers.  I  attended  upon  public  worship  on  Sunday,  and  there 
saw  for  the  first  time  that  innocent,  open  brow,  and  drank 
in  with  rapture  the  radiance  of  those  eyes.  I  was  forced  to 
leave  the  place  the  next  morning,  upon  business  of  urgency, 
and  departed  without  any  settled  purpose  of  ever  returning ; 
but  the  recollection  of  a  loveliness  such  as  never  crossed 
my  path  in  the  old  world  haunted  me,  whether  sleeping  or 
waking,  and  drove  all  other  objects  from  my  mind.  Still, 
I  had  never  taken  the  step  that  now  I  confess  justly  awakens 
your  indignation,  had  I  not  met  you  by  the  shore  of  the 
little  lake  that  lies  almost  hidden  among  the  hills  that  rise 
to  the  westward  of  your  home,  in  company  and  familiar 
conversation  with  a  dark-souled,  bloody-handed  privateer, 
who  is  my  mortal  enemy,  and  upon  whom  I  am  under  a 
solemn  oath  to  visit  my  vengeance,  for  an  insult  which  he 
had  the  presumption  to  offer  me  soon  after  my  arrival  in 
this  country.  You  will  remember  that  you  sat  down  upon 
the  green  bank  under  the  beech-wood  shade,  and  there 
talked  of  love;  that  he  plighted  you  his  faith  with  the  fer 
vour  of  young  passion,  and  that  you  answered  only  with  a 
sigh.  Oh !  if  you  could  have  known  the  keenness  and 
bitterness  of  that  jealousy  which  the  mention  of  the  name 
of  Anne  Willoughby  murmured  by  such  lips  as  his  at  that 


80  MOUNT     HOPE. 

sunset  hour  awakened  in  my  heart,  as  I  lay  hidden  behind 
the  trunk  of  the  tree  that  shaded  you,  or  the  agony  with 
which  I  heard  you  breathe  that  sigh,  surely  I  could  not  fail 
to  be  forgiven.  I  had  watched  you  leave  your  little  bower 
in  the  garden  just  before  sunset  alone,  and  followed  your 
swift  footsteps  across  the  lawn  and  through  the  woods  at 
such  a  safe  distance  that  I  knew  I  could  not  have  been 
observed.  It  was  my  purpose,  then,  to  have  sought  a  brief 
interview  with  you,  and  implored  you  to  share  a  heart  that 
must,  I  knew,  be  ever  dark  and  cold  without  the  sunshine 
of  those  eyes.  I  would  have  proffered  you  wealth — power 
— ambition ;  the  gay  ostentations  of  the  most  princely  court 
in  Europe,  with  the  favour  of  the  most  brilliant  of  all  the 
Stuart  line;  or  retirement,  and  a  cottage  in  the  loveliest 
dell  that  lies  within  the  shadow  of  these  wilds.  But  when 
I  saw  that  puny  springald,  whose  only  rank  is  to  wear  a 
lieutenant's  epaulete  as  he  struts  the  deck  of  a  pirate- 
ship,  and  whose  sole  accomplishment  is  to  swear  a  sailor's 
oath,  or  sing  in  a  maiden's  ear  some  maundering  love-ditty 
— when  I  saw  that  it  was  William  Ashford  who  was  my 
rival,  and  that  he  was  approved — lady,  I  was  resolved ! 
Your  pity  is  all  that  I  can  claim." 

The  change  that  the  face  of  the  young  lady  had  under 
gone,  since  the  commencement  of  ,this  singular  disclosure, 
was  not  such  as  to  flatter  the  vanity  or  encourage  the  hope 
of  the  suiter.  She  no  longer  seemed  the  helpless,  trembling 
girl,  ready  to  sink  into  the  earth  at  the  perils  that  surrounded 
her.  She  stood  erect  and  severe  in  her  haughty  beauty,  as 
the  poets  represent  their  favourite  sylvan  goddess  when 
about  to  pass  sentence  of  death  upon  some  rash  intruder 
who  had  surprised  her  at  her  fountain.  In  her  effort  to 
avoid  the  assistance  of  this  man,  whom  she  had  every  rea 
son  to  loathe  and  abhor,  when  he  had  offered  his  arm  to 


MOUNT     HOPE.  81 

conduct  her  to  a  place  where  she  might  recline  upon  the 
bank,  her  long  glossy  hair  had  fallen  unheeded  about  her 
slender  figure,  and  still  floated  around  it  like  a  rich  wavy 
mantle.  Her  arms  were  also  bare,  and,  partly  from  con 
trast  with  her  hair,  seemed  of  an  unearthly  whiteness.  It  is 
impossible  that  features  of  such  delicate  and  purely  femi 
nine  mould  should  express  a  more  determined,  unalterable 
resolve  ;  but  it  was  a  resolve  mingled  with  scorn  and  indig 
nation,  mounting  in  the  colour  that  suffused  the  oval  cheek, 
and  sparkling  in  the  dark  eye. 

"Do  you  presume  to  talk  to  me  of  pity,  night-robber  as 
you  are — to  me,  the  victim  and  prisoner  of  this  gallant 
expedition,  undertaken  by  thirty  savages,  beginning  and 
ending  in  the  capture  of  one  helpless  girl — an  expedition 
carried  on  under  the  guidance  of  an  English  gentleman, 
who  boasts  himself  loya^  to  the  king,  and  who  offers  to  his 
captive — in  exchange  for  liberty  and  a  quiet  home,  of 
which  he  has  deprived  her-^-ambition,  wealth, » and  the 
glitter  of  jewels ! — Who  tells  her  that  he  has  no  doubt  she 
has  accepted  the  proffers  of  another,  and  then  is  so  kindly 
considerate  of  her  sensibilities  as  to  call  the  accepted  one 
by  ignominious  and  opprobrious  names !  Sir,  this  shall 
not  avail  you.  Name  not  to  me  again  the  name  of  William 
Ashford.  Do  not  presume  to  inquire  into  the  secrets  of  a 
heart  that  can  find  a  more  congenial  ear  than  thine,  if  it 
desired  to  communicate  them.  If  you  are  yet  the  wiser 
for  them,  it  is  that  you  have  not  thought  it  beneath  your 
nature,  nor  derogating  from  the  character  of  a  gentleman, 
to  become  an  eaves-dropper." 

The  stranger  seemed  for  a  moment  disconcerted  and 
abashed  at  the  words  and  manner  of  the  young  lady,  but 
his  habitual  self-possession  soon  returned ;  and  he  replied, 
with  the  coolness  of  one  who  had  marked  out  a  course  for 


82  MOUNT     HOPE. 

himself  which  he  is  well  assured  that  he  has  the  ability  to 
carry  out,  "I  have  a  single  word  to  add,  Miss  Willoughby, 
but  not  by  way  of  extenuation  of  conduct  which  I  know  best 
how  to  justify  to  myself.  I  have  told  you  that  I  can  introduce 
you  to  rank  and  power,  and  I  feel  sure  that  the  name  of  Ed 
ward  Randolph  is  sufficient  guaranty  for  what  I  promise," 

Without  appearing  to  notice  the  shudder  which  shook 
the  frame  of  the  unhappy  girl,  at  the  mention  of  that 
name,  so  associated  with  tyranny  and  overreaching  power 
in  the  mind  of  every  colonist,  he  resumed : 

"  I  have  spoken  to  you  of  love ;  but  ambition  is  my 
ruling  passion.  It  needs  but  one  crowning  success,  and 
my  cup  of  fame  will  sparkle  to  the  brim.  Give  me  but 
the  clue  to  one  man,  who  I  am  told  is  connected  to  you  by 
ties  of  blood — or,  at  least,  by  some  political,  if  not  family 
affinity — and  I  will  send  you  safely  home  again  to-morrow ; 
or,  if  you  choose  >•%  this  very  evening.  Give  me,  but  by 
word  or  token,  some  knowledge  of  the  lurking-place  of 
William  Goffe,  and  I  will  bid  you  go  unharmed.  Or,  if 
you  will  frankly  tell  me  that  you  have  neither  seen  him 
nor  heard  where  he  is  concealed,  I  pledge  you  my  honour 
that  I  will  not  further  detain  you.  Answer  me,  ay  or  no." 

"  Do  your  worst,  bad  man ! — I  tell  you,  plainly,  that  1 
will  die  rather  than  answer  your  question." 

"  Then  I  am  to  infer,  either  that  you  like  my  company 
better  than  that  of  your  friends,  or  that  you  know  something 
of  the  man  whom  I  seek,  which  you  mean  to  conceal  from 
me.  But  mind,  proud  one !  I  will  keep  your  person  as  a 
hostage  for  the  secret." 

He  was  interrupted  by  a  yell  from  the  Indian  who  stood 
nearest,  who  leapt  high  into  the  air,  and  fell  dead  at  his 
feet.  Instantaneously  with  the  death-cry  of  the  savage 
was  heard  the  sharp  report  of  a  rifle  from  the  opposite  side 


MOUNT     HOPE.  88 

of  the  stream.  The  Indians,  and  the  four  Englishmen, 
who  were  painted  so  as  to  be  not  easily  distinguished  from 
their  allies,  darted  up  the  steep  bank,  and  flew  each  to  his 
tree.  But  Randolph,  confident  that  the  assailants  were  the 
friends  of  Anne  Willoughby,  and  that  he  was  safe  while 
near  her  person,  threw  himself  directly  in  front  of  her, 
cocked  his  rifle,  and  stood  facing  the  enemy.  He  had 
stood  but  a  moment,  when  a  tall,  martial  figure  emerged 
from  behind  the  boughs  of  a  hemlock  that  stood  a  few  feet 
from  the  stream,  and,  turning  impatiently,  addressed  some 
words  apparently  to  his  followers,  which  Randolph  could 
not  distinguish  on  account  of  the  roar  of  the  torrent. 
Immediately  not  less  than  forty  men,  passing  from  behind 
the  same  covert,  came  into  full  view,  and  followed  their 
leader  to  the  brink  of  the  stream.  Notwithstanding  its 
swift  current,  the  old  man  stemmed  it  gallantly,  lifting  his 
rifle  and  powder-horn  above  his  shoulder,  that  they  might 
not  be  exposed  to  the  water,  and  was  soon  on  the  firm  dry 
rock  of  the  opposite  bank,  and  not  far  from  the  fire  that 
had  been  kindled  by  the  Indians.  But  his  companions 
were  not  so  successful,  part  of  them  being  carried  down 
with  the  current,  and  others  compelled  to  support  them- 
selves  in  crossing  by  thrusting  the  butts  of  their  guns  in 
the  water.  Only  thirty  reached  the  shore,  and  but  little 
more  than  half  of  them  had  kept  their  rifles  dry.  They 
had  scarcely  attained  a  firm  footing,  when  a  volley  of  four 
or  five  muskets,  with  a  flight  of  arrows,  killed  three  of 
their  number  and  mortally  wounded  two  others.  The 
enemy  was  visible  only  for  a  moment,  while  they  brought 
the  long  tubes  of  their  pieces  to  bear  upon  the  little  party, 
and  then  fell  behind  their  respective  coverts  as  before. 
The  old  soldier  rallied  his  forces,  and  led  them  on  with 
difficulty  over  the  sharp  stones  and  tangled  roots,  directly 


84  MOITNTHOPE. 

to  the  spot  where  Randolph  still  remained  standing.  Just 
as  the  old  man  ascended  the  platform  of  rock,  Randolph 
took  deliberate  aim  at  his  breast,  and  snapped  his  rifle ; 
but  it  missed  fire.  He  threw  it  down,  and,  uttering  a  fierce 
oath,  drew  his  short-sword,  and  rushed  furiously  forward 
to  encounter  his  antagonist.  "I  have  found  thee  out  at 
last !"  exclaimed  the  king's  pursuivant,  gnashing  his 
teeth,  and  making  a  thrust  at  the  throat  of  the  regicide. 
"Edward  Randolph  will  yet  wear  the  spurs  of  a  knight. 
Peace,  old  dotard !  Yield  thee  to  the  king's  warrant,  if 
thou  canst  set  any  value  on  that  traitor's  life  of  thine ! 
William  Goffe,  I  arrest  thee  in  the  name  of  Charles,  Son 
of  the  Martyr!" 

"Stand  aside,  vain  boy!"  replied  the  gray-haired  hero 
of  a  hundred  battles — parrying  at  the  same  time  the  well- 
aimed  stroke  of  his  adversary,  while  his  stern  voice  rose 
above  the  din  of  tfre  waterfall — "Stand  aside,  and  give 
me  possession  of  yonder  maiden,  or,  wert  thou  the  Stuart 
of  whom  thou  vapourest,  I  would  strike  thee  dead!" 

By  this  time  the  party  of  Randolph  had  come  out  from 
their  concealment,  and  were  engaged  hand  to  hand  with 
that  of  GofFe.  The  four  Englishmen  who  followed  Ran 
dolph  were  skilful  swordsmen,  and  made  fearful  havoc 
among  the  undisciplined  ranks  of  the  colonists,  who  were 
not  only  unpractised  in  that  species  of  warfare,  but  were 
poorly  provided  with  weapons  for  a  close  encounter.  But 
they  stood  their  ground  bravely,  and  the  occasional  sound 
of  a  pistol  told  the  fate  of  the  savage,  whose  war-club 
availed  him  little  against  the  more  deadly  weapons  of 
civilization.  Meanwhile,  the  contest  remained  doubtful 
between  Goffe  and  Randolph.  But  the  glittering  spurs  of 
knighthood  and  the  visions  of  a  successful  political  career, 
that  danced  before  his  excited  imagination,  made  his  head 


MOUNT     HOPE.  85 

giddy  and  his  hand  unsteady,  when  suddenly  the  sword  of 
the  regicide,  in  parrying  one  of  his  furious  lunges,  broke 
near  the  hilt.  The  old  warrior  stepped  aside,  and  letting 
Randolph  pass  sheer  by  him,  from  the  momentum  imparted 
to  his  person  by  the  effect  of  his  own  desperate  blow, 
grasped  him  about  the  waist  with  the  strength  of  a  giant, 
and  dashing  him  violently  upon  the  rock,  drew  a  dagger 
from  the  belt  of  the  wounded  man,  and  plunged  it  deep  into 
his  side.  He  had  scarcely  risen  from  the  body  of  his 
adversary  when  he  received  a  blow  from  behind,  from  the 
sword  of  one  of  the  Englishmen,  who  seemed  determined 
to  take  the  place  of  his  vanquished  leader.  Two  other 
Knglishmen  took  up  the  body  of  their  master,  and  while 
the  wounded  regicide  was  defending  himself  with  the  rem 
nant  of  his  sword  against  the  blows  of  their  fellows,  hurried 
with  it  up  the  bank,  and  disappeared.  A  yell  of  joy, 
blending  fearfully  with  the  agonized  scream  of  Anne 
Willoughby,  as  a  tall  Indian  bore  her  in  his  arms  up  the 
ledgy  and  uneven  bank,  and  vanished  in  the  dense  laurel- 
bushes,  was  the  too  certain  signal  that  the  regicide,  defeated 
and  at  the  same  time  victorious,  was  left  in  undisputed 
possession  of  the  field.  His  party  scattered,  and  several 
of  them  slain,  himself  wounded,  he  saw  that  it  would  be 
madness  to  pursue,  and  immediately  sounded  a  retreat. 
He  had  strictly  enjoined  upon  Mr.  Southworth  not  to 
attempt  crossing  the  stream;  and  on  returning  with  the 
fragment  of  his  little  band,  he  was  surprised  to  find  that 
the  clergyman  had  disobeyed  his  orders,  and  that  he  had 
been  severely  wounded  in  the  right  shoulder  by  a  rifle-ball 
from  the  volley  fired  by  the  enemy  when  they  had  first 
reached  the  western  bank  of  the  stream.  Goffe  found  his 
friend  pale  and  faint  from  the  loss  of  blood.  He  took  him 
gently  in  his  arms,  and  carried  him  back  across  the  stream. 

8 


86  MOUNT     HOPE. 

"  I  gave  you  strict  charge  not  to  peril  life  in  this  encoun 
ter,"  said  the  old  man,  reproachingly,  as  he  laid  down  his 
burden  tenderly  upon  the  dry  leaves.  "Scenes  like  this 
are  not  for  such  as  thou." 

"It  is  my  part  to  defend  my  own  household.  Would'st 
thou  have  me  show  myself  devoid  of  the  common  feelings 
of  a  man  1  Alas,  my  poor  Anne !" 

"Be  calm,  my  son,  and  wait  God's  time.  But  what  new 
messenger  of  evil  have  we  here?" 

As  he  spoke,  a  young  Indian  boy  came  gliding  down  the 
hill,  who  seemed  to  be  known  to  Goffe;  for  he  exclaimed, 
eagerly,  "What  sends  you  here?  and  what  news  do  you 
bring?" 

"  Indian  boy  read  no  books,"  replied  the  runner ;  at  the 
same  time  placing  in  the  hands  of  the  regicide  an  unsealed 
letter,  written  upon  a  small  scrap  of  paper,  the  characters 
of  which  were  so  soiled  as  to  be  almost  obliterated.  The 
old  man  sighed  heavily  as  he  deciphered  the  following 
brief  epistle : 

" LOVING  BROTHER:  Our  dear  old  friend,  Mr.  R ,  languishes 

and  pines  sorely  since  your  departure.  He  utters  scarcely  a  word 
to  any  member  of  the  family,  and  moans  bitterly  in  the  night,  so 
that  it  is  with  difficulty  that  we  do  sleep  at  all.  He  often  mutters 
things  of  which  we  do  not  distinctly  gather  the  meaning,  and  pines 
pitifully  for  his  dear  son.  At  other  times,  he  speaks  of  you  as  of 
one  dead,  and  then  soon  after  smiles,  and  says,  'I  am  better  now.' 
If  he  do  not  see  you  ere  long,  I  doubt  your  next  meeting  will  be 
in  heaven.  "  Ever  your  loving  RUSSELL." 

"We  must  gather  up  our  forces,  and  hie  us  home,"  said 
Goffe,  wiping  away  a  tear  from  his  eye  as  he  concluded 
the  letter.  "  General  Whalley  is  ill :  it  will  soon  be  over 
with  him."  And  marshalling  into  good  order  his  broken 
forces,  the  melancholy  old  man  bent  his  way  homeward. 


MOUNTHOPE.  87 


CHAPTER    IX. 

"What  strange  words 

Are  these,  which  call  my  senses  from  the  death 
They  were  composed  to  welcome  ?    Son !  'tis  false — 
I  had  but  one,  and  the  deep  wave  rolls  o'er  him." 

Ion. 

ON  a  beautiful  peninsula,  formed  by  the  most  graceful 
curve  which  the  Connecticut  (the  loveliest  of  all  the  rivers 
that  gleam  among  the  hills  of  the  north)  makes  in  its  long 
winding  journey  to  the  ocean,  stood  the  rural  village  of 
Hadley.  It  was  situated  upon  the  very  point  of  the  penin- 
cula,  with  one  main  street  running  north  and  south,  and 
abutting  at  either  extremity  upon  the  river.  The  settlement 
was  then  new,  and  had  in  it  few  houses ;  but  most  of  them 
indicated,  from  their  size  and  neatness,  as  well  as  from  the 
degree  of  culture  that  surrounded  them,  the  industry  and 
comparative  opulence  of  the  inhabitants. 

On  the  eastern  side  of  the  street,  and  about  midway 
between  the  arms  of  the  river,  stood  the  large,  well-built 
mansion  of  Mr.  Russell,  the  parish  clergyman,  almost  hidden 
behind  the  branches  of  two  magnificent  elms  of  primitive 
growth.  In  the  rear  of  the  house  was  a  lawn  covered  with 
apple-trees. 

It  was  about  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening  of  the  day  men 
tioned  in  the  preceding  chapter,  when  a  gentleman,  closely 
enveloped  in  a  long  cloak  that  perfectly  concealed  his  per- 
son,  emerged  from  the  tall  forest-trees  that  skirted  the  river, 
and  entered  the  orchard.  At  first,  his  step  was  rapid  and 


88  MOTJNTHOPE. 

bold,  but  as  he  neared  the  house,  he  walked  with  more 
caution;  and  on  arriving  at  the  garden-gate  he  paused, 
with  his  hand  upon  the  latch,  and  looked  cautiously  around 
him.  Having  apparently  satisfied  himself  that  he  was 
unnoticed,  he  passed  noiselessly  through  the  garden,  and 
stepped  over  the  little  low  stile  that  separated  it  from  the 
house,  stopped  suddenly,  and  stamped  his  foot  upon  the 
ground.  The  earth  beneath  him  returned  a  hollow  sound, 
and  the  traveller,  kneeling  upon  his  right  knee,  commenced 
removing  the  rubbish  that  had  been  thrown  so  artfully  over 
the  spot  as  to  elude  the  vigilance  of  any  eye  not  acquainted 
with  the  premises.  After  he  had  cleared  a  space  of  about 
two  feet  in  diameter,  the  clear  moonlight  disclosed  the  entire 
surface  of  a  small  trap-door  fastened  by  a  strong  padlock. 
He  then  pulled  from  his  pocket  a  bunch  of  keys,  tied  to 
gether  by  a  thong  of  deer-skin,  and,  selecting  the  one  that 
seemed  to  suit  his  purpose,  applied  it  to  the  lock,  which 
yielded  readily  to  his  hand.  Lifting  the  door  upon  its  rusty 
hinges  far  enough  to  admit  his  person,  he  placed  his  foot 
upon  a  short  ladder,  letting  the  heavy  door  gently  down  as 
he  descended.  The  pit  in  which  he  had  thus  voluntarily 
shut  himself  was  about  six  feet  in  depth,  and  walled  in  like 
a  well.  At  the  west  side,  and  near  the  bottom,  was  a  nar 
row  channel  or  passage,  of  sufficient  size  to  admit  a  full- 
grown  man,  running  horizontally  westward  with  side-walls, 
and  covered  with  large  flat  stones.  Along  this  passage  the 
mysterious  night-wanderer  crept  softly  until  he  came  to  an 
other  door,  opening  inward,  and  secured  in  a  similar  manner 
to  the  one  that  he  had  just  passed.  This  he  unlocked,  and 
glided  through  the  aperture,  shutting  and  fastening  the  door 
carefully  behind  him.  He  was  now  in  the  cellar  of  the 
parsonage,  which  was  so  deep  that  he  could  stand  upright 
without  touching  the  timbers  overhead.  After  groping 


MOUNT     HOPE.  89 

about  in  the  dark  for  some  moments,  he  discovered  a  small 
moveable  staircase  standing  against  the  wall,  and  leading 
perpendicularly  upwards.  This  he  carefully  ascended  until 
he  reached  a  third  door,  constructed  of  lighter  materials 
than  the  others,  which  he  easily  raised  with  a  slight  pres 
sure  of  the  hand.  He  now  found  himself  in  a  spacious 
closet,  shut  in  with  solid  panels  of  oak.  Letting  the  door 
noiselessly  down,  he  stood  a  moment,  and  listened.  Putting 
his  ear  to  the  wainscot,  he  could  hear  the  indistinct  murmur 
of  voices  in  low  but  apparently  earnest  conversation.  He 
heaved  a  deep  sigh,  and  muttering  to  himself,  "  I  pray  God 
it  be  not  too  late,"  knocked  distinctly  with  his  heavy  hand 
against  the  firm  partition.  The  voices  ceased,  and  he  heard 
a  light  step  cross  the  adjoining  apartment,  and  then  a  knock 
against  the  wall  corresponding  to  his  own. 

"  Who  waits  there  1"  inquired  a  voice  from  within. 

"  Mr.  Goldsmith,"  responded  the  stranger. 

In  a  moment  the  door  was  partly  opened  from  within  by 
Mr.  Russell,  the  proprietor  of  the  mansion,  who  held  a 
lighted  candle  in  his  hand,  and  who  glanced  stealthily  into 
the  closet,  as  if  in  doubt  whether  he  could  safely  admit  his 
visiter. 

"Thank  Heaven!"  exclaimed  the  clergyman,  "my  ex 
pectations  have  not  deceived  me :  you  are  with  us  at  last." 

"  Ay,  my  son ;  the  wanderer  has  returned But  you 

look  pale — I  am  too  late — tell  me  if  he  yet  lives]" 

"He  lives,  but  is  fast  sinking." 

"And  his  mind?" 

"Is  still  wandering;  but  there  are  intervals — I  should 
rather  say  glimmerings  of  reason ;  he  spoke  incoherently 
but  a  moment  since ;  but  he  replied  not  to  my  words,  and 
whether  he  was  sleeping  or  waking  I  could  not  tell.  His 
eyes  were  closed." 

8* 


90  MOUNT     HOPE. 

"I  must  see  him:  lead  the  way."  And  opening  wider 
the  massive  door,  the  gray-haired  regicide  entered  the 
apartment  of  the  invalid. 

It  was  a  small  but  comfortable  chamber,  neatly  carpeted, 
and  furnished  with  a  table  (covered  with  writing  materials 
and  a  few  books),  three  large  oaken  chairs,  and  two  beds, 
in  one  of  which,  with  his  face  turned  to  the  wall,  as  if  to 
avoid  the  trembling  rays  of  the  light  that  flickered  upon  the 
table,  lay  an  old  man,  apparently  about  eighty-five  years 
of  age.  As  the  evening  was  sultry,  his  only  covering  was 
a  single  linen  sheet  thrown  loosely  over  him,  from  which 
his  emaciated  arm  and  small  livid  fingers  had  escaped,  and 
lay  languidly  by  his  side.  His  high,  straight  forehead,  and 
calm  features,  which,  from  their  perfect  outline,  neither  age 
nor  disease  had  robbed  of  their  serene  beauty,  were  pale  as 
marble.  The  window  was  partly  open  to  admit  the  cool 
air  from  the  river,  s^nd  the  night-breeze  fanned  gently  the 
thin  snow-white  locks  that  still  lingered  about  his  temples. 
The  tall  form  of  Goffe  bent  over  him,  long  and  silently, 
while  he  read  with  mournful  earnestness  the  ravages  of 
superanuation  and  disease  in  every  lineament  and  furrow 
of  the  venerable  face  of  his  friend.  Then,  turning  to  the 
clergyman,  who  still  remained  standing  by  the  table,  he 
asked,  in  a  voice  choked  with  grief,  while  a  tear  sparkled 
in  his  bright  eye,  "How  long  is  it,  my  son,  since  he  spoke 
intelligibly  ?  Hath  he  inquired  after  me  to-day  ?" 

"About  one  o'clock,  when  I  brought  him  his  simple  meal, 
he  roused  himself  for  a  moment,  and  demanded  of  me  if '  I 
had  seen  his  dear  major-general;'  but  when  I  sought  to 
prolong  the  conversation,  and  asked  if  he  would  see  Goife, 
his  beloved  son-in-law,  he  smiled,  and  said  'Yes;'  but 
added,  soon  after,  '  No,  no :  1  have  no  son,  and  Goife  died 
long  ago.' " 


MOUNT     HOPE.  91 

"Alas!"  replied  GofFe — seating  himself,  and  motioning 
the  clergyman  to  a  seat  that  stood  near  him — "  alas !  I  fear 
that  my  fruitless  journey  hath  taken  from  me  the  privilege 
I  most  prized  on  earth — the  administering  of  consolation  to 
the  last  moments  of  this  more  than  father." 

"You  call  it  a  fruitless  journey,  then?  And  did  you 
hear  no  tidings  of  the  long-lost  son  ?" 

"  None  :  I  have  ridden  over  ground  where  the  sound  of 
my  very  name  would  have  echoed  treason ;  I  have  sought 
him  out  among  men  who,  had  they  known  the  name  of  the 
seeker,  would  gladly  have  bought  the  royal  favour  by 
seizing  and  delivering  over  to  the  hands  of  the  executioner 
the  wasted,  life-weary  regicide.  I  have  this  very  day  en 
countered  the  mortal  enemy  of  me  and  my  race ;  but  my 
arm  struck  down  the  wretch,  as  it  has  stricken  down  many 
a  better  man  in  the  days  of  the  Protector.  He  paid  the 
price  of  his  mad  folly  in  the  last  debt  to  nature." 

"  An  enemy !  and  slain !  Have  you,  then,  been  discov 
ered?" 

"  Ay,  an  enemy  to  God  and  man.  But  did  I  not  tell 
thee  that  he  was  dead?  Death  is  no  betrayer  of  secrets: 
the  hounds  that  scented  my  blood,  bore  off  his  mutilated 
remains,  but  they  will  gladly  leave  them  in  the  wilderness 
to  gorge  the  wolf  and  the  raven." 

"Who  is  this  fallen  enemy?" 

"Edward  Randolph." 

"  Edward  Randolph !  Have  you  met  and  slain  Edward 
Randolph?" 

"I  have  slain  him.  You  look  wild — you  shudder.  Dost 
think  it  a  sin  in  the  sight  of  Heaven  to  stop  the  breath  of  a 
murderer?  You  start  at  my  words,  and  the  minister  of 
God  may  well  shrink  from  the  weapons  which  the  servants 
of  the  Protector  have  grown  old  in  wielding.  But,  Russell, 


92  MOUNT     HOPE. 

Justice  always  bears  a  sword,  and  Oliver  only  taught  us  to 
employ  it  as  the  meanest  viper  that  crawls  will  use  his 
envenomed  tooth,  to  protect  his  writhing  shape  from  the 
foot  that  crushes  him." 

"  The  weapons  of  our  warfare  are  not  carnal,"  interposed 
the  clergyman. 

"Self-defence  is  the  first  law  of  our  nature,  Russell. 
But  self-defence,  when  roused  against  a  tyrant,  or  the  min 
ions  of  a  tyrant,  and  in  behalf  of  a  goaded  and  maddened 
people,  to  inspire  them  with  hope  and  freedom,  and  lift 
their  eyes  to  the  pure  light  of  heaven,  is  the  sentiment  of  a 
Christian  patriot,  and  God  will  approve  it.  But  let  us 
awaken  our  aged  friend,  and  try  if  we  can  marshal  his  scat 
tered  thoughts  for  a  last  conflict  with  the  enemy  of  man." 

He  walked  the  room  a  moment,  to  banish,  by  more  tran 
quil  thoughts,  the  frown  that  still  lowered  upon  his  brow 
and  the  gleam  that  had  lighted  his  dark  eye — the  reflex  of 
many  a  bloody  field ;  and  walking  slowly  up  to  the  bed  of 
the  sick  man,  stooped  over  him,  and  passed  his  brawny 
hand  over  the  pale  forehead  of  the  sleeper.  "Awake, 
father,  awake! — Dost  thou  not  know  that  thy  son  has 
returned?  Let  me  hear  thy  voice  once  again." 

The  invalid  turned  his  face  suddenly  toward  the  light, 
and,  opening  his  eyes,  stared  wildly  at  Goffe,  but  showed 
no  signs  of  recognition. 

"  Speak,  Whalley :  do  you  know  me  ?" 

At  the  sound  of  his  name,  the  old  man  started  up,  and 
rising  upon  his  elbow,  cried,  in  a  voice  that  rang  hollow  as 
the  echo  of  the  sepulchre,  "  Who  calls  Whalley  ?  Was  it 
my  Lord  Cromwell  ?  Was  it  the  Lord  General  ?  Tell 
him  that  1  am  ready  with  two  hundred  good  troopers  that 
carry  pistols  at  their  holsters  and  swords  at  their  girdles." 
Then  raising  his  arm,  with  his  small  attenuated  hand 


MOTJNTHOPE.  93 

clenched  as  if  it  grasped  the  weapon  of  which  he  raved, 
he  continued  with  increased  energy,  "  Up,  my  merry  men ! 
to  horse !  hew  the  roisterers  down ! — one  more  charge  like 
that,  and  we  drive  them  into  the  morass ! — There  again — 
it  was  well  done — now  they  flounder  man  and  horse  in  the 
dead  pool — call  off  the  men.  They  cry  quarter — shame 
on  ye — 'tis  murder  to  strike  a  fallen  foe !  But  I  wander. 
Who  called  Whalley  ?  Sure  I  have  heard  that  voice  ere 
this." 

"It  is  your  son:  it  is  Goffe." 

"Peace,  man!  I  know  thee  not.  There  was  a  GofFe, 
who  stood  once  by  my  side  in  the  armies  of  the  Protector, 
and  who  sat  with  me  in  judgment  upon  the  tyrant;  but  he 
was  attainted  of  high-treason,  and  hanged — or,  if  not,  he 
must  have  died  in  the  tower.  My  memory  is  poor  and 
treacherous:  I  am  old,  sir;  but  you  look " 

"Hear  me,  father.  Do  you  remember  under  whose 
charge  the  Stuart  was  placed  at  Hampton- Court?" 

"Do  I  remember  it!"  quoth  he.  "Ay  do  I,  as  if  it  were 
but  a  thing  of  yesterday.  Yesterday!  better  than  that. 
Sir,  I  have  forgotten  yesterday  already :  my  thoughts  live 
only  in  those  glorious  days ;  they  are  written  on  the  tablets 
of  the  brain  as  with  a  diamond.  But  what  was  I  saying? 
It  has  escaped  me." 

"The  Stuart,  father " 

"  Who  had  the  Stuart  in  charge  at  Hampton  Court  ?  / 
had  him,  and  thought  the  game-bird  would  sooner  have 
escaped  from  the  talons  of  the  falcon  when  poised  on  the 
wing,  than  he  from  me.  But  some  knave  played  me  false, 
and  for  love  or  gold  let  the  tyrant  slip  through  my  hands. 
And,  sir,  to  own  the  truth,  he  was  a  princely  gentleman ; 
and  after  his  escape  he  wrote  me  a  loving  letter,  with  many 
thanks  for  my  gentle  courtesy  and  kindly  care  of  him. 


94  MOUNT     HOPE. 

Yet  his  phantasy  was  ever  running  upon  trifles:  for  m 
that  very  epistle  he  begged  me  to  present  in  his  name  a 
trumpery  dog  as  a  keepsake  to  the  Duke  of  Richmond. 
Had  it  not  been  for  such  light  follies  and  an  overweening 
tyranny,  he  might  have  ruled  England  to  this  hour." 

GofFe  now  perceived  that  he  had  hit  upon  the  right  vein, 
and  proceeded  to  ply  him  with  reminiscences  of  his  earlier 
manhood. 

"Had  you  e'er  a  wife?" 

"  The  wife  of  my  youth  was  an  angel.  What  of  her, 
but  that  she  is  dead,  and  I  desolate?  Or  who  are  you, 
that  venture  to  thrust  my  grief  upon  me  unasked.  You 
tread  upon  the  ashes  of  the  dead!" 

"  Pardon  me<:  I  wound,  that  I  may  heal.  Had  you  ever 
a  daughter?" 

"I  had  several,  but  I  cannot  recall  their  names.  Yet  I 
am  sure  there  must  have  been  more  than  one." 

"  Was  not  one  of  them  made  by  your  consent  the  wife 
of  William  Goffe?" 

"Yes — why  yes:  Frances  was  the  wife  of  GofFe — a 
gallant  officer,  and  a  faithful  servant  of  God  and  the 
commonwealth.  I  mind  him  well  now.  He  was  a  host 
in  battle,  but  something  rash,  and  of  a  hot  temper.  I 
thought  to  hear  of  his  death  at  the  end  of  every  conflict 
with  the  cavaliers.  He  would  ride  a  furlong  in  front  of 
his  troop  in  the  rage  of  pursuit,  if  ever  the  enemy  broke 
rank  and  fled." 

"What  became  of  him?" 

"He  died — no — it  has  all  come  back  to  me  now.  He 
came  with  me  to  America,  and  here  in  the  rocks  and 
caverns  of  this  wilderness  he  has  helped  to  hide  me,  with 
the  tenderness  of  a  bird  for  its  unfledged  young,  through 
this  my  second  infancy." 


MOUNT    HOPE.  95 

"Do  you  not  know  me  now?"  asked  Goffe,  affectionately 
taking  his  hand. 

The  old  man  fixed  his  mild  blue  eye,  already  beaming 
with  the  rays  of  returning  intelligence,  full  upon  the 
anxious  face  of  his  fellow-exile,  and  gazed  long  and 
intently,  as  if  he  would  have  read  in  his  features  some 
sign  of  an  attempt  to  practise  upon  his  credulity.  Then 
the  colour  came  back  in  a  momentary  glow  to  his  cheeks, 
and  tears  flowed  copiously  over  them,  as  he  threw  his  arms 
around  the  iron  form  of  GofFe,  and  smiled  faintly  as  he 
faltered,  "Alas  the  day — that  I  should  live  to  forget  thee, 
my  more  than  son!" 

The  empire  of  reason  was  restored :  and  although  after 
wards  it  sometimes  lost  its  sway  in  the  chaos  of  the  dim 
and  shadowy  images  of  the  past,  yet  from  that  time  to  the 
day  of  his  death,  the  jealous  glance  with  which  he  followed 
the  steps  of  the  companion  of  his  earlier  and  more  pros 
perous  days,  as  he  moved  noiselessly  around  the  room — 
the  warm  grasp  of  the  hand — the  subdued  patience  of  the 
sufferer — the  oft-repeated  endearing  appellation  "  my  son — 
my  son" — were  constant  witnesses  to  the  faithfulness  of 
memory,  when  kindled  and  kept  in  exercise  by  gratitude 
and  love. 


MOUNT     HOPE. 


CHAPTER    X. 

"Beneath  the  lab'rer's  sun-browned  hat, 
There  flashed  a  soldier's  eye." 

ON  the  morning  of  the  last  day  of  that  memorable  June, 
within  the  limits  of  which  our  story  has  hitherto  been 
confined,  the  inhabitants  of  Milford,  though  some  vague 
rumours  had  reached  them  of  a  nature  calculated  to  excite 
apprehension,  pursued  their  usual  avocations,  in  ignorance 
of  the  storm  that  was  gathering  in  the  sister-colonies. 
The  farmer,  it  is  true,  as  he  passed  his  hoe  through  the 
light  loam  of  those  fertile  fields  that  look  off  upon  Long 
Island  Sound,  discussed  earnestly  with  his  fellow-labourer 
the  signs  of  the  times,  and  spoke  doubtingly  of  laying  aside 
the  ploughshare  and  pruning-hook  for  the  sword  and  spear. 
There  was  one  field  in  particular  (which,  to  judge  from 
the  number  of  its  labourers  and  its  high  state  of  culture 
must  have  belonged  to  an  opulent  proprietor,  and  which 
lay  about  a  mile  out  of  the  little  village)  where  the  politics 
of  the  neighbourhood  and  the  dangers  of  an  Indian  invasion 
were  freely  canvassed.  It  was  the  season  of  hoeing  Indian- 
corn  ;  and  nearest  the  highway,  and  apart  from  the  others, 
was  a  middle-aged,  stalwart-looking  man  busy  at  the 
plough.  He  walked  steadily  on  between  the  plough- 
handles,  with  his  head  bent  upon  the  ground,  apparently 
wholly  absorbed  in  his  occupation,  and  did  not  seem  to 
observe  what  his  fellow-labourers  had  paused  from  their 
work  to  look  upon — a  gentleman  mounted  upon  a  powerful 


MOUNT     HOPE.  97 

black  horse,  and  riding  furiously  down  the  road,  as  if  life 
and  death  were  hanging  upon  his  errand. 

"He  brings  news  that  will  leave  the  plough  rusting  in 
the  furrow,  I  fear,"  said  one. 

"So  I  am  thinking,"  replied  another;  "for  he  rides  as 
the  storm  rode  the  Sound  on  Monday." 

"  And  see,  he  stops,"  said  another ;  "  we  are  fairly  in  for 
it.  Look  how  his  horse's  sides  are  covered  with  foam." 

"  I  wish  I  owned  the  horse,  and  could  ride  him  as  well," 
bawled  a  little  boy,  three  or  four  rods  in  the  rear  of  the 
others:  "I  would  be  as  great  a  man  as  the  major,  and  go 
to  the  wars." 

By  this  time  the  rider  had  tied  his  steed  to  the  fence 
opposite  the  ploughman,  and  clearing  the  rails  with  a 
bound,  was  close  upon  him  in  an  instant ;  but  the  yeoman 
kept  on  his  steady  pace,  unconscious  of  his  presence. 

"Stop  a  moment,  my  good  fellow,"  said  the  stranger; 
but  receiving  no  answer,  he  reiterated,  in  a  voice  that 
made  the  field  ring  again,  "  Stop  a  moment :  I  would  have 
a  word  with  you." 

The  man  at  the  plough  stopped  his  team,  and  turning 
round  slowly  in  the  furrow,  with  one  hand  still  grasping 
the  plough-handle,  said,  gravely,  "Good  morrow  to  you, 
sir.  What  would  you  with  me  ?" 

"I  wish  to  find  Major  Treat,"  replied  the  stranger; 
"  my  business  is  urgent ;  I  think  I  must  trouble  you  to  go 
with  me,  and  point  out  his  house ;  I  will  pay  you  better  for 
your  time  than  you  can  sell  it  at  the  plough-tail."  And 
suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  he  opened  an  embroidered 
purse,  and  proffered  the  man  a  guinea. 

"  I  can  save  both  of  us  that  trouble,  to  say  nothing  of  my 
time  and  your  gold,"  said  the  ploughman,  laughing  good- 
naturedly.  "  For  lack  of  a  better  man  to  answer  to  the 

9 


98  MOUNT     HOPE. 

summons,  I  think  you  must  call  me  Major  Treat."  And 
at  the  same  time,  he  took  off  his  hat,  and  bowed  so  soldierly, 
and  presented  his  hand  with  such  an  easy  freedom  of 
manner,  as  left  no  room  to  doubt  that  he  was  no  less  a  man. 

"I  am  a  blunderer,"  said  the  stranger,  colouring  with 
embarrassment ;  "  I  ought  to  have  known  better ;  but 
haste " 

"Tush,  man!  never  mind  a  mistake  that  only  ends  in  a 
joke.  But  what  have  we  here  ?"  he  continued,  looking 
sharply  at  the  address  of  the  letter  which  the  stranger  had 
thrust  into  his  hand.  "So — so;  I  should  know  that  hand. 
Yes,  it  is  the  governor's,  and  his  coat  of  arms  too."  And 
breaking  the  seal  hastily,  he  glanced  over  its  contents,  and 
then  said,  abstractedly,  "I  could  have  expected  as  much. 
These  red-skins  must  be  crushed  after  all.  Yes,  Lieu 
tenant  Ashford — for  so  I  think  his  excellency  names  you — 
yes,  sir,  we  will  attend  to  this  business ;  if  the  weeds  will 
over-top  the  corn,  why  then  they  must."  Then  facing 
round,  as  if  he  were  already  at  the  head  of  his  troops,  he 
called  out  in  a  thundering  voice  to  his  men,  "  Turn  out, 
boys! — turn  out!  Leave  the  corn  to  take  care  of  itself: 
-we  must  to  the  harvest.  John,  hie  thee  home,  my  lad,  and 
saddle  me  Pym  on  the  instant ;  and  you,  Sammy,  drive 
home  the  oxen,  and  turn  them  a-field." 

"I  am  coming,  sir,"  said  the  little  laggard  to  whom  this 
latter  speech  was  addressed,  and  who  had  done  nothing  for 
the  last  five  minutes  but  admire  the  elegant  horse  which 
his  eyes  so  much  coveted — "coming,  sir." 

Meanwhile,  the  major  and  his  young  friend  walked 
arm-in-arm  to  the  road.  "You  ride  a  mettlesome  horse, 
sir,"  said  the  elder  gentleman,  as  they  came  up  to  the 
gallant  charger  of  Ashford:  "and  if  you  do  not  plead 
fatigue  yourself,  I  think  we  may  find  further  employment 


MOUNT     HOPE.  99 

for  him  before  the  day  is  spent.  What  say  you  to  the 
recruiting  service,  my  young  friend  ?  I  will  give  you  my 
sign-manual,  and  I  think  the  General  Court  will  ratify  it." 

"I  await  your  orders,  major." 

"It  is  well ;  and  now  I  call  it  to  mind,  there  has  recently 
gone  from  the  coast  a  little  colony  to  establish  a  plantation 
in  a  quiet,  retired  valley,  about  forty  miles  to  the  north, 
called  Pomperauge ;  and,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  there  is  a 
young  gentleman  here  who  is  about  to  visit  that  settlement 
on  business,  and  who  will  be  an  excellent  guide.  I  think, 
if  you  will  undertake  to  drill  them  a  week,  you  may  get 
plenty  of  soldiers  there  for  the  asking." 

"  With  all  my  heart,  sir.  Introduce  me  to  my  guide, 
and  we  will  set  off  in  an  hour." 

"Not  till  we  have  dined,  Mr.  Ashford." 

The  distance  was  not  far  to  the  house  of  Major  Treat, 
where  Ashford  was  introduced  to  a  young  gentleman,  of 
elegant  manners  and  appearance,  who  was  made  known 
to  him  as  Doctor  Henry  Sherman,  and  who  offered  not 
only  to  conduct  him  through  the  wilderness  to  the  new 
settlement,  but  to  lend  him  such  aid  as  he  could  in  raising 
volunteers  for  the  campaign.  The  premises  of  their  host 
were  thronged,  long  before  the  dinner-hour  was  over,  with 
neighbours  and  townsmen,  eager  to  learn  the  news  and  to 
proffer  their  assistance.  But  Pym  was  already  saddled, 
and  champing  the  bit  impatiently  in  front  of  the  court-yard 
of  the  hospitable  mansion  ;  and  the  proprietor,  following  his 
guests,  after  their  hasty  meal  was  concluded,  through  the 
crowd,  upon  which  he  smiled  good-naturedly  as  he  passed 
— himself  already  booted  and  spurred,  as  if  for  a  long  jour- 
ney — had  only  time  to  say  to  them,  as  he  mounted  and 
turned  his  horse's  head  towards  the  east,  "I  cannot  spare 
the  time  for  explanations  now,  my  good  friends ;  but  when 


100  MOUNT     HOPE. 

I  return,  have  gun  and  cartridge  ready,  and  such  as  will, 
shall  lend  a  hand  to  a  bold  game  For  the  present,  fare 
well.  Before  the  sun  sets,  I  shall  be  in  Hartford.  So — ho 
— can  you  never  be  quiet,  Pym?"  And  as  he  gave  the 
beautiful  animal  the  rein,  he  started  off  at  a  brisk  travelling 
trot,  as  if  he  was  as  well  aware  as  his  master  that  there 
was  a  long  journey  in  prospect,  and  that  his  strength  was 
not  to  be  expended  at  the  outset. 

Ashford  and  his  companion  also  at  the  same  moment  set 
out  in  a  northerly  direction,  beguiling  the  way  as  they 
went  with  speculations  and  conjectures  upon  the  one- 
absorbing  topic,  varied  at  times  by  those  pleasant  interludes 
to  which  the  incidents  of  the  journey,  and  those  fancies 
which  always  come  at  the  call  of  romantic  youth,  naturally 
gave  rise,  at  every  winding  of  the  tangled  and  wooded  path 
— decorated  as  it  was  with  all  the  attractions  of  foliage  and 
flower  which  nature  lavishes  upon  the  American  forest  in 
the  prodigality  of  early  summer,  and  softened  while  it  was 
enlivened  by  the  "native  wood-note"  of  many  a  bird,  and 
varied  with  the  silvery  thread  of  brook  and  rivulet  winding 
softly  through  the  valleys,  or  dashing  swiftly  against  the 
sharp  angles  of  the  rocks  that  curbed  them  in. 

Towards  evening,  the  sound  of  distant  waters,  and  the 
occasional  glimpses  through  the  trees  of  a  beautiful  valley, 
betokened  their  near  approach  to  a  river  of  considerable 
size  ;  and  on  turning  to  the  right  of  a  high  rock  that  rose 
like  a  tower,  and  lifted  its  naked  head  high  above  the  tall 
pines  that  clustered  thick  around  its  sides,  the  river  pre 
sented  itself  to  view,  almost  at  their  feet,  in  a  long-extended 
pool  of  about  twelve  rods  in  width,  fringed  with  wild  willows 
that  dipped  their  long  drooping  branches  in  the  water,  as 
if  to  dispel,  by  the  cool  influences  of  the  wave  and  the 
breeze  that  just  dimpled  its  surface,  the  languor  of  the  sum 
mer's  heat. 


MOUNT     HOPE. 


iol 


" Yonder  rock  is  Pomperauge's  castle,"  said  Sherman; 
"  and  here,  at  our  feet,  is  the  river  that  bears  the  name  of 
his  tribe.  It  is  deep,  but  our  horses  will  swim  it  with  ease." 

It  was  but  the  labour  of  a  moment,  and  they  found  them 
selves  safely  landed  on  the  opposite  bank.  A  little  way 
beyond  the  brink  of  the  river,  and  running  nearly  parallel 
with  it,  stretched  a  high  ridge  or  mound  of  nearly  a  mile  in 
length,  so  regular  in  outline  and  so  smooth  in  surface,  that  it 
seemed  impossible  that  it  could  have  been  any  other  than  the 
work  of  human  hands.  Under  an  immense  tulip-tree,  that 
lifted  its  upright  shaft  from  the  summit  of  the  ridge,  sur 
rounded  by  its  clustering  cone-shaped  branches,  that  waved 
their  deep  green  leaves  in  the  cool  evening  air,  our  travellers 
breathed  their  horses  for  a  moment,  and  looked  off  upon  the 
area  of  the  beautiful  valley  with  an  admiration  like  that 
accorded  by  the  "  Red  Cross  Knight"  to  the  lovely  apparition 
that  met  his  eye  as  he  threaded  the  obscure  labyrinth  of 
Fairie  Land.  Scattered  patches  of  cleared  land,  with  prim 
itive  groves  intervening,  sometimes  giving  to  full  view 
and  sometimes  half-concealing  the  rough  dwellings  of  the 
hardy  pioneer,  were  bristling  with  Indian-corn,  or  waving 
with  the  rye  which  had  now  almost  attained  its  full  growth, 
and  were  enlivened  by  hundreds  of  little  hills,  covered  with 
clumps  of  cedars  and  juniper-bushes— affording,  in  the 
green  recesses  of  the  vines  that  fastened  among  their  boughs, 
the  leafy  retreat  of  the  squirrel  and  the  wood-pigeon. 

The  little  river  swept  in  graceful  curves  through  the 
middle  of  the  valley,  disclosing  here  and  there  a  solitary 
Indian  in  his  birchen  canoe,  drifting  idly  down  with  the 
current,  or  overcoming  its  feeble  resistance  by  the  force 
of  his  muscular  arm,  as  he  plied  the  paddle  to  gain  some 
point  farther  up  the  stream.  To  the  north,  the  eye  lost 
itself  in  the  impenetrable  forest;  and  the  hills  that  rose 
9* 


*  ,*  **•  ** «  * 

102 


MOUNT     HOPE. 


upon  the  west,  and  behind  which  the  sun  had  already  sunk, 
in  the  huge  oaks  and  chestnuts  that  adorned  their  gentle 
acclivities,  were  as  free  from  the  ravages  of  the  axe,  as  if 
the  untamed  savage  were  still  the  sole  proprietor  of  the  soil. 
But  its  eastern  boundary  gave  to  this  sequestered  nook  its 
most  picturesque  charm.  It  was  a  perpendicular  wall  of 
rock,  extending  northerly  as  far  as  the  eye  could  penetrate 
the  indistinct  shadows  of  the  twilight  that  were  now  fast 
settling  over  it,  with  many  a  seam  and  rift  in  its  gray  front, 
and  crowned  with  tall  pines,  that  mingled  their  plaintive 
dirge  with  the  lowing  of  the  herds,  the  impatient  voice  of 
the  cow-boy,  and  the  wayward  ripple  of  the  stream. 

"  And  is  this  the  place  that  the  inhabitants  have  called  a 
wilderness?"  inquired  Ashford,  after  he  had  drank  in  with 
the  true  ardour  of  youth  the  beauties  of  the  enchanting 
scene.  "  I  have  never  seen  in  England  or  in  the  islands 
of  the  west,  a  place  more  sequestered  and  beautiful.  With 
the  maiden  of  my  choice  to  cheer  my  lot,  I  could  spend  a 
life-time  of  happy  days,  decoying  the  trout  from  the  brooks 
that  sparkle  in  those  meadows,  or  seeking  the  wild  deer  in 
yonder  woods." 

"  It  is  indeed  worthy  of  the  praise  that  you  have  lavished 
upon  it,"  said  the  other,  "  and  the  pioneer  is  as  happy  here 
as  our  insecure  condition  will  permit.  But  the  close  neigh 
bourhood  of  a  powerful  tribe  of  Indians  detracts  something 
from  the  charming  features  of  the  valley." 

"Are  not  these  Indians  friendly,  then?  I  had  supposed 
that  since  the  destruction  of  the  Pequods,  the  tribes  within 
the  limits  of  this  colony  were  easily  controlled." 

"They  are  for  the  most  part  more  manageable  than 
before,  but  the  tribe  that  still  keeps  possession  of  yonder 
rock  has  committed  many  depredations  upon  the  persons 
and  property  of  the  English  within  the  last  few  weeks,  and 


MOUNT     HOPE.  103 

we  have  good  reason  to  believe  that  Philip  or  some  of  his 
runners  has  recently  paid  them  a  visit." 

"I  fear,  then,"  replied  Ashford,  "that  we  shall  have  little 
chance  of  levying  forces  from  this  settlement.  But  we 
shall  see." 

"  Let  us  descend  to  our  lodgings,"  said  the  other ;  "  for  the 
cry  of  the  wolf  reminds  me  that  night  is  already  upon  us." 

A  moment's  ride  brought  them  to  a  low-roofed,  though 
rather  capacious  building,  thatched  with  straw,  standing  at 
the  southern  extremity  and  almost  in  a  rift  of  the  precipice 
above  described,  with  several  large  maples  in  front  that 
almost  hid  it  from  the  eye.  Upon  a  stout  branch  of  one 
of  these  trees  a  large  oaken  plank,  swinging  to  and  fro  m 
the  dim  twilight,  and  creaking  discordantly  on  its  rusty 
hinges,  presented  to  the  eye  of  our  weary  travellers  the 
significant  word,  "  Accomodation,"  written  in  large  black 
characters;  and  Ashford  smiled  at  the  simplicity  of  the 
sign  and,  the  rude  handiwork  of  the  artist  who  constructed 
it  as  he  followed  his  companion  over  the  threshold. 


104  MOUNT     HOPE. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

"She  could  look  more  than  others  could  speak; 
Yet  her  words  were  no  laggards ! " 

THE  proprietress  of  this  mansion,  which  was  known  for 
miles  around  under  the  denomination  of  "The  Pomperauge 
Public,"  met  the  young  gentlemen  at  the  very  entrance, 
with  eyes  streaming  in  tears,  and  looks  of  the  most  wild  and 
haggard  grief.  "  Well-a-day,  Master  Sherman,  it's  good 
for  the  like  of  us  poor  souls  that  your  honour's  come  at  last : 
there's  nothing  but  ill-luck  from  one  end  of  the  week  to 
the  other  while  you  are  away.  May  the  Lord  preserve  us, 
but  we  are  a  sad  people!"  And  she  wept  aloud. 

"What  means  all  this,  Dame  Doolittle?  Calm  yourself, 
good  woman,  and  tell  me  what  has  happened." 

"She's  gone,  sir — no  news  of  her,  sir! — it'll  break  my 
heart." 

"Who  has  gone?  what . will  break  your  heart?  You 
must  make  yourself  intelligible  at  least,  if  you  expect  my 
help." 

"Emily  Wilson,  to  be  sure,  it  is.  Who  but  she,  sir? 
She  left  the  *  Public'  after  dinner,  to  go  out  among  the 
meadows  by  the  place  they  call  the  '  Indian  well,'  close  by 
the  river,  and  since  that  nobody  has  heard  of  her.  She 's 
lost,  she's  lost — murdered  at  the  very  least.  My  poor 
sister's  orphan  child !"  And  Dame  Doolittle  wrung  her 
hands  in  despair. 

"Have  none  gone  in  search  of  her?"  asked  Sherman, 
anxiously.  "She  was  a  merry  lass,  and  had  many  a  friend 
among  the  stout  lads  of  the  settlement.  Courage,  good 


MOUNT     HOPE.  105 

woman ;  and  give  two  hungry  horsemen  your  best  enter, 
tainment,  and  food  for  their  horses,  and  in  an  hour's  time 
we  will  try  what  can  be  done  for  you." 

"Did  your  honour  ask  whether  the  boys  had  gone  to  look 
for  her?  Troth  did  they  :  twenty  of  them  up  the  river  and 
down,  but  not  a  word  or  a  sign  of  poor  Emily.  But  there 
has  been  a  dance  among  the  Indians  of  the  castle  to  day, 
and  at  sunset  they  lighted  a  fire  that  would  scare  the 
wolves  and  owls  for  miles  around.  And  your  honour  may 
hear  their  yells  even  now,  as  if  they  were  so  many  born 
devils.  But  what  was  my  crazy  head  running  on,  to  forget 
your  honour's  orders!  Jonathan! — Jonathan!"  (This 
euphonious  Hebrew  appellation  was  addressed  to  the  ear 
of  a  thick-skulled,  awkward  lad  of  fifteen,  who  sat  behind 
the  door  upon  a  joint-stool,  and  showed  by  his  frequent 
nodding  that  he  was  perfectly  well  satisfied  with  his  pres 
ent  condition.)  "  Jonathan,  I  say ! — What  are  ye  dreaming 
of,  idle  loon  as  ye  are?  Up,  lad — up!"  And  the  land 
lady  gave  him  a  blow  upon  the  ear  with  one  of  her  long 
bony  hands  that  evidently  brought  him  back  from  the 
sweet  forgetfulness  in  which  his  faculties  were  drowned. 
"Never  rub  your  eyes,  lad,  till  ye've  led  the  gentlemen's 
horses  to  the  stalls.  Fill  their  mangers  with  hay,  and 
make  them  beds  of  clean  straw; — and  then  water,  and 
then  corn  at  bed  time.  D'ye  hear  what  I  say,  Jonathan  ? 
Don't  let  the  grass  grow  under  your  feet — scud  along, 
sirrah."  And  she  administered  a  parting  salutation  with 
the  same  delicate  weapon,  as  he  rubbed  his  eyes  and 
yawned,  as  if  scarcely  yet  conscious  of  her  commands. 

This  second  demonstration  of  authority  acted  like  magic 
upon  the  poor  fellow,  who  threw  his  overgrown  body  into 
the  street  with  a  desperate  alacrity,  that  bespoke  more 
plainly  than  words  the  absolute  authority  of  his  mistress 
in  her  own  domicil. 


106  MOUNT     HOPE. 

The  door  was  now  opened  into  the  kitchen,  and  the 
same  voice  was  heard  giving  orders  to  Sally  to  prepare 
supper.  "Stir  up  the  fire  under  the  kettle,  and  set  on  the 
cold  venison ;  and  now  I  think  of  it,  a  broiled  trout  would 
not  come  amiss ;  for  the  gentlemen  have  ridden  hard,  and, 
I  dare  warrant,  either  dined  ill  or  not  at  all.  And  serve  it 
up  in  a  way  that  is  genteel-like,  Sally :  for  Dr.  Sherman 

is  a  minister's  son,  and "  The  rest  was  not  distinctly 

audible,  but  the  words  "handsome  gentleman,''  having 
reference  doubtless  to  the  other  guest,  certainly  closed  the 
sentence.  To  hear  Miss  Dorothy  Doolitle,  was  always  to 
obey.  Every  thing  was  done  in  silence  on  the  part  of  the 
servants,  and  in  vociferation  on  the  part  of  the  employer. 
But  since  the  hands  as  well  as  the  speaking-organs  of  that 
dignitary  were  in  constant  operation,  it  is  but  justice  to 
confess  that  her  share  in  the  preparation  was  no  sinecure. 
In  the  little  bar-room  of  the  "Public"  were  assembled 
some  twenty  sturdy  young  men,  who  all  hailed  Sherman 
with  the  most  extravagant  demonstrations  of  joy.  The 
lost  maiden  was  of  course  the  all-absorbing  topic,  and  end 
less  were  the  speculations  and  conjectures  of  the  company 
as  to  her  sudden  disappearance. 

"  What  say  you,"  said  Sherman,  at  length — addressing 
himself  to  a  tall  curly-haired  lad  of  nineteen,  supposed  to 
be  a  suiter  of  Emily,  and  more  smiled  upon  by  her  than 
by  her  aunt — "What  say  you,  Dick  Austin?  will  you  go 
with  this  gentleman  and  myself  to  the  castle  this  evening, 
and  demand  the  girl  of  the  chief?" 

"That  will  I,  gladly,"  said  Dick  Austin,  solemnly. 
"But  I  doubt " 

He  would  have  finished  his  reply,  had  not  the  appear 
ance  of  the  landlady,  of  whom  he  stood  in  great  awe, 
choked  his  utterance.  "Your  honours'  humble  meal  is 
ready,"  said  the  dame,  "if  ye  will  but  follow." 


MOUNT     HOPE.  107 

They  did  follow,  and  were  repaid  by  one  of  the  most 
savoury  suppers  that  ever  smoked  upon  the  board  of  that 
celebrated  dining-room.  Yes,  a  supper  :  not  that  stinted, 
modern  meal  called  "tea,"  but  a  pioneer  supper,  such  as 
two  hungry  men  who  have  ridden  fast  and  far,  be  they 
gentle  or  simple,  always  delight  to  honour. 

The  personal  charms  of  Dorothy  Doolittle,  spinster,  were 
by  no  means  calculated  to  compose  the  muscles  of  the 
face.  She  was  a  keen-featured,  withered  lady,  of  about 
five-and-forty,  who  ranked  herself  among  that  numerous 
order  of  females  known  then,  as  now,  under  the  happy 
denomination  of  "old  maids  from  choice" — a  class  which, 
to  the  credit  of  the  sisterhood,  is  by  no  means  extinct.  It 
is  true,  indeed,  that  the  malicious  sometimes  charge  them 
with  inability  to  wed ;  but  it  is  to  be  presumed  that  such 
slanderers  are  usually  made  up  of  those  discarded  lovers 
who  fell  victims  to  their  earlier  charms.  She,  at  least — 
the  darling  theme  of  the  present  chapter — is  too  bright  a 
luminary  to  be  tarnished  by  such  an  imputation.  She 
was  lean  and  tall  to  the  last  degree,  which  peculiarities, 
designed  doubtless  to  give  solemnity  to  her  countenance 
and  dignity  to  her  person,  were  set  off  to  their  fullest  extent 
by  a  yellow  gown  of  coarse,  home-spun  flannel,  fitting  so 
closely  to  her  body  and  limbs,  and  maintaining  so  nearly 
the  same  scanty  proportions  from  her  neck  to  her  ancles, 
that  one  was  at  a  loss  to  conjecture  how  the  economical 
dame  had  contrived,  without  loss  of  life  or  fracture  of 
limb,  to  thrust  herself  into  so  narrow  an  enclosure. 

"Upon  my  word,  Mr.  Sherman,"  whispered  Ashford,  as 
the  dame  passed  in  and  out  of  the  room — exhibiting  in  its 
full  majesty  this  singular  specimen  of  trans- Atlantic  attire — 
"  Upon  my  word,  I  have  never  before  seen  so  sharp  a  sword 
in  so  snug  a  sheath," 


108  MOUNT     HOPE. 

Her  nose  was  long  and  slender,  and,  notwithstanding  the 
convexity  about  the  middle  of  the  organ,  extended  far 
downward  toward  the  chin,  which  latter,  curving  inward 
at  the  middle,  was,  to  say  the  least,  equally  conspicuous. 
This  deviation  from  a  right  line,  as  it  could  not  be  supposed 
to  be  owing  to  the  burden  of  their  own  weight,  may  have 
been  designed  to  represent  what  in  modern  days  has  been 
called  the  line  of  grace — certain  it  is,  that  these  two  features 
seemed  to  vie  with  each  other  alarmingly  in  length,  and, 
as  if  aware  that  unity  is  the  true  source  of  the  sublime, 
or  instinctively  conscious  that  kindred  spirits  find  most 
pleasure  in  each  other's  society,  they  had,  by  encroach 
ment  upon  the  freehold  originally  vested  in  the  mouth, 
arrived  at  such  close  neighbourhood  as  to  be  almost  mis 
taken  at  a  little  distance  for  one  and  the  same  feature. 
Yet,  in  spite  of  this  apparent  lack  of  room  for  utterance,  it 
is  but  due  to  her  to  acknowledge  that  she  could  make  her 
shrill  voice  perfectly  audible  from  back-kitchen  to  bar 
room  :  at  any  rate,  it  is  not  handed  down  to  us  by  tradition 
that  either  servant  or  guest  ever  complained  of  deafness. 
And  when  annoyed  at  child  or  man,  servant  or  gentleman, 
her  high  treble  seldom  needed  the  auxiliary  forces  of  fire- 
shovel  or  broom.  However,  even  those  who  were  most 
disposed  to  backbite  her  love  of  good  order,  were  forced  to 
admit,  that  in  spite  of  her  tongue  she  was  a  notable  house 
keeper,  and  that  when  her  mandates  were  strictly  obeyed, 
and  every  thing  under  her  roof  disposed  to  her  own  taste, 
she  made  few  exhibitions  of  temper,  unless  those  occasional 
squalls,  to  which  people  in  her  forlorn  situation  are  often 
subjected,  might  be  thought  worthy  of  such  an  appellation. 
Such  were  a  few  of  the  excellencies  of  the  worthy  lady, 
who  it  is  hoped  will  find  favour  in  the  eyes  of  the  reader, 
as  her  character  unfolds  itself  in  the  subsequent  chapters. 


MOUNT     HOPE.  109 


CHAPTER    XII. 

"  A  clambering,  unsuspected  road." — Lady  of  the  Lake. 

IT  was  but  the  walk  of  a  few  minutes,  and  the  three 
young  men  had  crossed  the  river,  and  were  beginning  to 
climb  the  path  that  led  to  the  rock  occupied  by  the  chief 
and  his  tribe.  The  ascent,  at  first  not  very  difficult,  grew 
gradually  more  steep,  and  the  long,  bent  grass,  tufts  of 
blackberry-bushes,  and  clusters  of  wild  cherry  trees,  which 
they  were  compelled  to  encounter,  made  the  way  toilsome 
and  uncertain.  Huge  and  shapeless  masses  of  rock,  cov 
ered  with  a  bristly  screen  of  hemlock  and  dwarf-cedar, 
formed  innumerable  obstacles,  and  turned  them  aside  into 
the  channels  of  the  wasted  torrents,  now  dry  and  ledgy, 
along  whose  margin  lay  decayed  trunks  of  trees,  out  of 
which  grew  luxuriantly  the  briars  of  the  red  raspberry, 
displaying  to  the  eye,  in  the  light  of  the  birchen-torch 
which  Austin  carried  in  his  hand,  their  tempting  fruit  on 
either  side  of  the  path.  Following  these  labyrinthine  water 
courses,  Austin  led  them  on  in  silence,  now  leaping  from 
one  rock  to  another,  or  swinging  themselves  by  the  aid  of 
small  trees  from  ledge  to  ledge,  until  they  arrived  at  a  small 
level  area,  neatly  carpeted  with  moss,  and  shaded  by  two 
white  pines,  the  larger  of  them  supporting  with  its  low 
branches  the  prop  or  central  pillar  of  an  Indian  wigwam. 
In  this  simple  aboriginal  dwelling  were  seated  four  or  five 
young  women,  employed  in  weaving  baskets  from  the 
splinters  of  the  red-ash  and  oak,  each  one  bent  forward 

10 


110  MOUNT    HOPE. 

intent  upon  her  task,  and  measuring  with  a  regular  beat 
of  her  small  moccasined  foot  the  low-chanted  strain  of  a 
female  voice,  which  rang  wild  and  sweet  as  a  wind-harp 
from  the  interior  of  the  wigwam.  They  were  young,  and 
from  the  natural  gracefulness  of  their  motions,  as  well  as 
the  neatness  and  taste  displayed  in  the  adjustment  of  their 
simple  dress,  it  was  easy  to  see  that  they  belonged  to  the 
better  class. 

Sherman  now  took  the  torch  from  the  hand  of  Austin, 
and  approached  towards  the  entrance  of  the  hut.  As  he 
presented  himself,  the  voice  that  had  been  so  carelessly 
employed  in  singing  was  suddenly  changed  into  an  eager 
cry  of  recognition  as  a  female,  more  tall  than  any  who  had 
been  before  discovered,  darted  from  a  covert  nook,  and  met 
him  at  the  threshold. 

No  welcome  was  ever  more  heartfelt  and  artless  than 
that  proffered  by  Taloola,  the  bride  of  the  chief,  to  the  man 
whom  her  husband  regarded  with  more  respect  than  any 
of  the  other  English  who  visited  the  settlement. 

"  Let  not  Taloola  tremble,"  said  he,  addressing  her  in 
the  soft  guttural  language  of  her  tribe :  "  the  medicine-man 
seeks  the  chief.  Can  the  Lily  of  the  Rock  tell  him  where 
the  chief  sits  in  council  ?" 

She  replied  by  a  gesture,  pointing  with  her  fore-finger  to 
the  top  of  the  rock,  and  led  the  way  up  the  acclivity  with  as 
much  apparent  ease  as  if  nature  had  interposed  no  obstacle 
to  her  progress. 

They  now  came  to  the  foot  of  a  huge  projection  from  the 
main  rock,  that  branched  off  towards  the  south,  presenting 
a  rough  barrier  of  nearly  twenty  feet  in  height,  and  appar 
ently  insurmountable.  But  Taloola  grasped  firmly  a  large 
vine  that  clung  to  a  tree  by  its'  edge,  and  as  quick  as 
thought  drew  her  slender  figure  to  the  top.  Her  guests 


MOUNT     HOPE.  Ill 

followed  as  well  as  they  were  able,  and  on  reaching  the 
height  of  this  natural  wall,  found  themselves  upon  a  solid 
platform  of  earth,  overgrown  with  matted  grass,  and  so  high 
that  they  could  look  down  upon  the  tops  of  the  tallest  trees, 
and  spy  through  the  openings  of  their  ever-green  foliage 
the  windings  of  the  river  as  it  glittered  in  the  moonlight. 

From  this  point  of  elevation  the  rock,  or  "castle,"  as  it 
was  called,  rose  bald  and  bare,  presenting  its  weather-worn 
sides  to  the  war  of  wind  and  storm,  and  overlooking  and 
lighting  up  with  its  blazing  beacon  the  length  ana  breadth 
of  the  valley.  Directly  to  the  south  of  this  natural  fortress, 
and  beneath  its  very  shadow,  were  seen  scattered  over  the 
surface  of  the  hill  about  twenty  wigwams  of  different  sizes, 
in  and  around  which  stood,  reclined,  or  sat — as  business  or 
leisure  prompted — the  members  of  the  tribe,  of  either  sex, 
and  of  all  ages  and  conditions  :  here  sat  the  warrior,  polish, 
ing  and  shaping  into  the  war-club  or  the  bow,  the  rough 
stick  of  iron-wood  or  white  oak ;  here  the  papoose  let  fly 
his  puny  arrow,  and  threw  his  little  tomahawk  in  miniature 
combat;  here,  silent  and  submissive,  the  solitary  squaw 
knelt  over  the  mortar,  as  she  plied  the  maize  with  her  rude 
pestle  of  stone. 

Apart  sat  a  group  of  the  wise  men  of  the  tribe,  in  earnest 
conversation.  Among  them  was  a  young  warrior,  about 
thirty  years  of  age,  whom  Sherman  addressed  as  the  chief. 
He  arose,  and  met  his  visitors  with  the  dignity  peculiar  to 
the  "stoic  of  the  woods." 

"What  would  the  medicine-man  with  the  Beaver?" 

Sherman  unfolded  in  a  few  words  the  cause  of  their  visit. 

The  chief  shook  his  head  solemnly,  as  he  said,  "Six 
sons  of  Philip  came  to  the  wigwam  of  the  Beaver  when 
the  sun  cast  no  shadow.  They  brought  the  red  hatchet, 
but  the  Beaver  took  it  not  up,  and  they  went  away  with 


112  MOUNT     HOPE. 

dark  looks :  they  have  stolen  the  blue-eyed  maiden."— 
The  tone  of  the  chief  was  such  as  satisfied  the  sagacious 
mind  of  Sherman  that  he  was  innocent  of  the  crime  himself, 
and  there  was  great  probability  of  the  truth  of  his  con 
jecture  as  to  the  fate  of  Emily  Wilson.  He  accordingly 
proposed  to  the  chief  an  alliance  for  the  approaching  war, 
and  found,  to  his  surprise,  that  Pomperauge  was  eager  to 
accept  it. 

"When  will  the  son  of  the  Beaver  be  ready  to  march 
against  Philip  ?"  asked  Sherman,  when  they  had  settled  the 
terms  of  the  campaign. 

"  When  the  moon  is  full-grown,"  responded  the  savage, 
laconically. 

"  All  shall  be  ready,"  rejoined  Sherman ;  and  the  con- 
ference  ended. 


MOUNT     HOPE.  113 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


«I  prythee  have  a  care,  and  walk  with  wary  eye: 
There  'a  mischief  in  the  woods !" 


IT  was  on  the  morning  of  the  18th  of  September,  when 
Captain  Lathrop,  with  a  detachment  of  about  eighty  fighting 
men  under  his  command,  wound  slowly  along  the  bank  of 
the  Connecticut  towards  what  is  now  the  village  of  Deer- 
field.  He  had  been  sent  with  his  company,  the  very  flower 
of  Essex  county,  say  the  historians,  to  bring  to  the  relief 
of  the  garrison  at  Hadley  a  large  quantity  of  wheat  that 
had  been  left  standing  in  stacks  upon  the  Deerfield  mead 
ows.  The  wheat  had  been  threshed  in  the  open  field,  put 
into  bags,  and  placed  in  heavy  wagons  drawn  by  horses, 
without  any  interruption  from  the  Indians,  and  the  party 
were  now  on  their  march  to  Hadley. 

Early  in  the  morning  of  that  day,  Philip,  who  had  been 
lurking  in  the  woods  for  several  days,  and  was  well  ap 
prised  of  every  step  taken  by  the  English,  stationed  himself 
in  ambuscade,  with  about  seven  hundred  men,  on  either 
side  of  a  morass  through  which  he  knew  Lathrop  and  his 
party  would  be  obliged  to  pass,  and  where  they  would  be 
able  to  make  a  less  vigorous  resistance  with  their  cavalry 
and  heavily-laden  wagons  than  upon  the  firm  upland. 

Many  reverses  and  delays  had  hitherto  attended  the  enter 
prise  of  the  great  Indian  chief,  and  although  they  had  only 
seemed  to  stimulate  his  daring  and  ambitious  spirit  with 
more  determined  purposes  of  vengeance,  they  had  dishearU 
10* 


114  MOUNT     HOPE. 

ened  the  various  tribes  which  had  espoused  a  cause  that 
they  now  began  to  shrink  from  as  insecure  and  tottering. 
The  emergency  seemed  to  call  for  the  exercise  of  all  the 
address  and  moral  courage  of  the  sachem,  to  prevent  the 
desertion  of  "his  followers  at  an  hour  when  he. felt  secure 
that  he  could  redeem  his  name  and  arms,  from  the  infamy 
that  began  to  -attach  to  them. 

At  day-break  he  called  the  chiefs  about  him,  and  com- 
municated  to  them  the  road  that  the  enemy  must  take,  and 
the  ease  with  which  they  might  be  overpowered  by  num 
bers,  in  the  uncertain  footing  of  a  morass,  surrounded  with 
the  heavy  trunks  arid  the  thick  foliage  of  the  trees,  from 
behind  which  the  Indians  might  discharge  their  muskets 
and  let  fly  their  arrows  with  unerring  aim,  and  little  chance 
of  injury  to  themselves.  He  found  several  of  the  chiefs 
timid  and  incredulous,  and  some  of  them  ventured  to  recount 
in  detail  many  of  the  disasters  that  had  attended  them  dur 
ing  the  progress  of  the  war.  One  of  the  inferior  Nipmuck 
chiefs  even  dared  to  hint  that  Philip  was  the  cause  of  all 
the  calamities  that  hung  over  the  heads  of  the  red-men. 
Scarcely  had  the  insulting  taunt  escaped  his  lips,  when  a 
blow  from  the  war-club  of  the  enraged  king  dashed  him  to 
the  earth  in  the  very  midst  of  the  council-ring.  This  sud 
den  act  of  violence,  and  the  assurance  of  Philip  that  he 
would  treat  in  a  similar  manner  every  sagamore  who 
presumed  to  talk  of  fear  or  flight,  together -with  his  proud, 
imperious  manner,  and  the  spell  that  attached  to  his  name, 
silenced  all  complaints,  and  left  him  as  usual  the  absolute 
master  of  their  destinies.  But  Philip  was  too  profound  a 
politician,  and  too  deeply  schooled  in  the  motives  that  gov 
ern  the  actions  of  men,  not  to  know  that  he  needed  in  this 
crisis  the  good-will  and  hearts  of  his  warriors,  as  well  as 
the  strength  of  their  hands.  He  took  up  the  body  of  the 


MOUNT     HOPE.  115 

fallen  chief,  and  hurling  it  without  the  ring  with  as  much 
ease  as  he  would  have  cast  his  own  tomahawk  at  an  enemy 
in  the  heat  of  battle,  took  off  his  rich  coat  of  wampum,  and 
cutting  it  into  as  many  fragments  as  there  were  different 
tribes  present,  gave  to  every  chief  a  piece.  This  reward 
calmed  the  angry  discontent  of  the  savages,  and  they  forgot 
alike  the  defeats  and  the  haughty  pride  of  their  master  in 
the  munificence  of  his  gift.  Anawan  alone  refused  to 
accept  a  present  which  robbed  royalty  of  its  distinguishing 
marks,  and  which,  when  he  remembered  that  his  old  chief 
Massasoit  had  once  worn  the  garment,  seemed  to  him  a 
shameful  desecration. 

"The  rattlesnake  bears  a  deadly  tooth,"  said  the  old  cap 
tain,  with  great  solemnity,  "but  he  carries  not  the  feathers 
of  the  eagle." 

Philip  smiled  at  the  disinterestedness  of  his  gray-haired 
counsellor,  and  looking  him  full  in  the  face,  asked,  "What 
is  the  word  of  Captain  Anawan  1  does  the  chief  say  he  will 
fight?" 

"  I-oo-tash"  (stand  to  it),  replied  the  warrior,  with  abo 
riginal  brevity. 

Seconded  by  the  prowess  and  wisdom  of  Anawan,  Philip 
now  set  about  stationing  his  men  on  the  south  side  of  a 
"brook  that  crept  languidly  through  the  swamp,  and  served 
to  drain  it  of  its  waters  in  the  summer  months,  so  that  usually 
the  ground  over  which  the  road  passed  where  it  crossed 
the  stream  was  dry  and  safe  for  public  travel. 

By  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning,  Philip  had  sent  out  his 
runners  to  reconnoitre,  and  advise  him  of  the  approach  of 
the  English  ;  and  his  warriors  were  already  safely  crouched 
in  their  leafy  hiding-places  in  the  form  of  a  new  moon, 
which  was  divided  about  midway  by  the  slender  line  of  the 
grass -grown  road,  bordered  so  closely  with  bushes,  that  the 


116  MOUNT     HOPE. 

savages  on  either  side  of  the  path  might  have  almost 
touched  each  other  with  the  barrels  of  their  muskets.  In 
this  position  he  knew  that  he  could  pour  his  deadly  fire  into 
the  face  of  the  English,  without  exposing  his  own  men  to 
injury  from  each  other's  weapons.  All  these  preparations 
were  completed  long  before  Lathrop  and  his  men  had 
started  upon  their  journey. 

But  there  were  destined  to  be  other  actors  in  the  stirring 
scenes  of  the  day,  of  whose  proximity  to  the  well-selected 
field  the  wary  Indian  was  not  aware.  About  five  miles  off, 
in  the  midst  of  a  retired  dell,  which  had  been  partially 
cleared  of  bushes,  so  as  to  afford  a  convenient  place  of 
encampment  for  his  cavalry,  the  daring  privateer  Moseley, 
with  his  company,  had  passed  the  night.  The  dell  was 
shut  in  and  screened  by  sharp  barren  hills  of  red  sand 
stone  that  could  scarcely  have  offered  a  covert  for  an  enemy. 
At  the  first  peep  of  dawn,  Moseley,  who  had  passed  the 
night  with  little  inclination  to  sleep,  arose,  and  climbed  to 
the  top  of  the  high  hill  that  stood  to  the  north  of  the  camp, 
to  see  if  the  sentinel  who  was  stationed  there  was  still  on 
duty  at  his  post.  As  he  approached  softly  within  about 
two  rods  of  the  summit,  he  saw  the  short  fat  figure  of  Cor 
nelius  the  Dutchman,  sitting  bolt  upright  against  a  rock 
that  formed  a  projection  or  shoulder  of  the  hill,  and  could 
perceive  through  the  gray  light  of  the  morning  the  gleam 
of  the  musket  as  he  brought  it  to  his  shoulder. 

"Stand  vare  pe!"  said  Cornelius,  cocking  his  piece,  and 
bringing  it  to  bear  upon  the  person  of  the  intruder,  "or 
mein  Gott  I  vill  plow  your  prains  out." 

"Hold !  wait  a  bit,"  said  the  captain,  not  doubting  that  if 
he  remained  in  disguise  the  sentinel  would  put  his  benevo 
lent  intention  into  execution;  "I  am  the  captain,  Cornelius. 
Sure,  you  would  not  shoot  Captain  Moseley." 


MOUNT     HOPE.  117 

"I  vill  shoot  te  tuyvil,  if  he  pe  vidout  de  vord !"  responded 
the  uncompromising  watchman. 

"'Boston,'  then,  you  rascal.  Have  you  forgotten  my 
voice,  or  did  you  think  I  was  the  devil  in  good  earnest?" 

"  How  could  she  know  vedder  de  captain  was  von  evil 
spirit  vidout  de  vord  ?" 

"  You  are  a  faithful  servant,  Cornelius ;  and  I  think  I 
can  safely  trust  you  after  this  proof  of  fidelity.  Have  you 
seen  or  heard  any  thing  of  the  Indians?" 

«Vell — no — put  I  hear  him  now." 

"Hear,  villain!  what  do  you  hear?" 

"  Von  step  in  de  try  leaves." 

Moseley  put  his  hand  to  his  ear,  and  listened.  At  first 
he  could  distinguish  no  sound ;  but  soon  a  slight  rustling 
of  leaves  on  the  northern  slope  of  the  hill,  and  near  its  base, 
was  sufficiently  audible. 

"It  is  a  wolf,"  whispered  Moseley;  but,  after  listening 
a  moment  longer,  he  added,  "  no :  the  step  is  too  cautious 
for  a  wolf;  it  is  an  Indian:  there  are  several  Indians. 
Stand  to  your  post  bravely,  good  Cornelius,  till  the  day 
dawns,  and  we  will  ferret  the  red-skins  out." 

"Yaw,  goot  Captain  Moseley,  I  vill  do  vat  you  call  it — 
my  pest." 

The  dialogue  ended  just  as  the  rays  of  the  sun  began  to 
fleck  the  eastern  clouds  with  the  first  glimmerings  of  day 
break.  Moseley  hastened  down  the  cliff,  and  had  scarcely 
reached  the  level  of  the  little  valley,  when  the  increasing 
light,  mingling  dimly  with  the  shadows  of  the  surrounding 
hills,  and  giving  to  view  the  outlines  of  the  encampment, 
admonished  him  that  he  had  little  time  to  lose  if  he  would 
follow  the  Indians,  who,  as  he  believed,  had  just  crept  by 
him,  and  were  now  on  their  journey  to  join  the  main  body 
of  their  allies  under  the  command  of  Philip. 


118  MOUNT     HOPE. 

A  wild  spectacle  in  the  morning  twilight  was  that  little 
band  of  hardy  men,  stretched  upon  the  ground  under  the 
open  sky,  with  their  faces  and  hair  steeped  in  the  chill 
dews  that  had  fallen  upon  them  during  the  night,  struggling 
vainly  to  break  the  deep  slumbers  of  the  tired  soldier. 
Around  them  stood  their  horses,  tied  to  the  stinted  saplings 
that  had  escaped  the  axe  of  the  woodman,  devouring  eagerly 
the  corn  that  their  owners  had  brought  with  them  from 
Hadley,  or  the  long  grass  that  had  been  industriously 
gathered  on  the  preceding  evening  from  a  neighbouring 
marsh.  His  two  lieutenants,  Savage  and  Pickering,  were 
already  on  their  feet,  and  came  forward  to  meet  him. 

"  You  keep  early  hours,  my  blithe  boys !  I  would  I  had 
been  blessed  with  a  brace  of  such  lads  when  I  had  that 
brisk  scuffle  with  the  Seamew  off  Jamaica  this  very  day 
two  years  agone.  It  was  just  at  this  hour  in  the  morning. 
By  the  Protector's  bones,  had  it  not  been  for  my  sweet  Billy 
Ashford,  whom  I  must  still  from  courtesy  call  my  lieuten 
ant  in  spite  of  ye  both,  I'd  had  a  sore  day  of  it.  You 
should  have  seen  him  when  we  had  got  our  grappling-irons 
fairly  hold  of  the  enemy:  never  did  panther  scale  a  forest- 
tree  in  these  woods  with  sucli  .fierce  agility  as  he  darted  to 
their  deck.  As  I  live  to  tell  the  tale,  I  sa-w  the  stripling 
knock  the  sabres  from  the  hands  of  two  Spaniards,  each  a 
giant,  without  receiving  so  much  as  a  scratch  of  a  hurt, 
and  then  sling  them  overboard  into  the  cold  sea  as  if  they 
had  been  bits  of  remainder  biscuit. — But  give  us  a  tap  of 
the  drum,  Savage,  if  we  have  e'er  a  drummer  in  the  camp. 
It  will  throw  the  Indians  off  their  guard,  for  they  will  readily 
infer  from  it  that  we  have  not  discovered  them.  But  I  will 
attend  to  that  myself." 

At  the  same  time  he  stepped  to  the  place  where  Mr. 
Stimpson  was  still  drinking  copious  draughts  from  the 


MOUNT    HOPE.  119 

fountain  of  forgetfulness ;  and  giving  him  an  abrupt  saluta 
tion  with  his  foot  between  the  shoulders,  said,  sharply,  "  Up, 
Stimpson,  whose  Christian  name  is  Ezekiel! — up,  I  say! 
the  Philistines  are  upon  thee!" 

"Even  at  the  gates  of  Gaza,"  said  the  frightened  con 
stable,  starting  to  his  feet,  and  rubbing  his  eyes.  "But, 
unworthy  as  I  am,  I  will  be  an  humble  instrument  in  the 
hands  of  your  excellency." 

"Open  thine  eyes,  worthy  Ezekiel,  and  put  those  drum 
sticks  of  thine  in  motion,  or  I  will  bring  thee  to  thy  senses 
in  good  earnest.  What  dost  thou  consider  thyself  to  be, 
man?" 

"Firstly,  I  am  a  constable  for  the  commonwealth,  and 
carry  the  baton  of  the  law  that  is  a  terror  to  evil-doers ;  and 
secondly,  I  am  a  servant  of  your  excellency  the  governor." 

"There  is  little  excellency  about  me,  save  what  lies  in 
the  length  of  a  truncheon-blade ;  and  for  the  baton,  thou 
hast  now  two  instead  of  one.  Ply  thy  trade,  man,  and  do  it 
with  zeal,  or  I  will  turn  the  constable's  staff  into  a  drum 
stick  for  the  nonce,  and  beat  a  tattoo  upon  thy  back." 

Thus  challenged,  the  quandam  constable  soon  aroused 
the  troops,  who  were  not  long  in  making  their  hasty  break 
fast,  and  putting  themselves  in  readiness  for  their  day's 

march. 

****** 

The  only  entrance  to  the  little  valley  where  they  had 
passed  the  night  was  toward  the  south,  and  this  was  guarded 
by  a  round,  grass-covered  knoll,  shaded  here  and  there  by  a 
few  pines,  and  which  commanded  a  view  of  the  camp. 

Just  as  the  party  were  about  to  set  out  upon  their  march, 
they  were  surprised  by  the  appearance  of  a  company  of 
English  and  Indians,  the  leaders  of  whom  were  at  first 
visible  as  they  ascended  the  hill  that  formed  the  southern 


120  MOUNT     HOPE. 

boundary  of  the  valley.  They  paused  upon  its  brow  a 
moment,  as  if  to  reconnoitre,  and  then,  followed  by  about 
fifty  English  and  one  hundred  Indians,  descended  into  the 
dell,  directly  towards  the  spot  where  the  forces  of  Moseley 
were  drawn  up  in  marching  order.  The  gallant  privateer 
was  the  first  to  observe  them,  and  immediately  recognised 
in  the  closely-built  figure  and  easy  horsemanship  of  the 
young  gentleman  who  rode  among  the  foremost  of  the 
party  the  person  of  his  darling  lieutenant,  whose  absence 
he  had  just  been  deploring.  He  put  spurs  to  his  horse,  and 
galloped  forth  eagerly  to  meet  him.  They  both  alighted, 
and  with  paternal  affection  the  warm-hearted  captain  em 
braced  his  favourite  as  fondly  as  if  he  had  been  an  only  son. 

"  Thou  art  a  truant,  Billy  Ashford,  and  I  am  resolved  to 
have  thee  disciplined  soundly.  What  sayest  thou  to  a 
homily  from  worthy  Mr.  Stimpson  ?  His  text  shall  be  the 
prodigal  son!" 

"If  I  am  to  be  reprimanded,  I  would  prefer  to  take  the 
rebuke  from  the  lips  of  my  superior  officer,"  replied  Ash- 
ford,  smiling. 

"  On  account  of  past  services,  I  will  commute  the  punish 
ment. — But  whom  have  we  here  ?  By  my  faith,  a  tight-made, 
genteel-looking  lad  as  need  be — make  me  his  acquaintance." 

"Captain  Mosely,  I  have  the  honour  to  present  to  you 
my  newly  acquired  but  much  esteemed  friend,  Mr.  Sher 
man,  who  has  consented  to  serve  in  this  campaign  in  the 
capacity  of  surgeon." 

"  Sir,"  said  Moseley,  in  reply  to  the  obeisance  of  the 
young  surgeon,  "I  am  happy  to  commence  an  acquaint 
ance  which  I  hope  the  perils  of  the  war  will  cement,  and 
the  repose  that  may  follow  it  will  enable  us  to  perfect. 
But,  surely,  I  have  seen  your  features  ere  this,  or  is  it  a 
family  likeness  that  I  detect  in  them  ?  May  I  ask  if  you 


MOUNT     HOPE.  121 

bear  any  relationship  to  that  reverend  clergyman  and  pro 
found  scholar,  John  Sherman,  of  this  colony?" 

"So  near  and  dear,  sir,  that  I  have  the  honour  to  be 
his  son." 

"It  is  an  honour,  sir;  and  the  resemblance  to  him  that 
is  so  strongly  stamped  upon  your  face  has  much  of  promise 
in  it.  I  know  the  family  well.  They  are  of  high  repute 
and  gentle  breeding. — But,"  he  continued,  addressing  him 
self  to  Ashford,  "what  two-edged  weapon  in  petticoats  have 
you  brought  us  here  ?  By  the  right  hand  of  Oliver,  and 
mounted,  too,  like  Semiramis  or  Clorinda  of  old !  She  is 
a  perfect  god-send  in  her  way ;  for  if  ever  that  cunning 
savage  whom  they  call  Philip  should  once  get  sight  of  this 
heroine,  he  would  seek  refuge  in  the  Canadas." 

The  two  young  gentlemen  laughed  heartily,  and  Ashford 
lost  no  time  in  replying,  "I  am  rejoiced  at  the  good  opinion 
which  you  seem  to  entertain  of  the  prowess  of  our  female 
companion,  and  I  can  assure  you  that  your  confidence  is 
not  misplaced.  But  it  is  time  that  you  heard  her  name 
and  the  sound  of  her  maidenly  voice."  And  leading  the 
way  to  the  place  where  the  fair  Amazon  still  remained, 
administering  the  fragment  of  a  hickory  rod  to  her  worn 
and  jaded  steed,  that  seemed  already  desirous  of  going 
into  winter-quarters,  and  throwing  back  his  large  flapping 
ears,  and  rolling  up  the  whites  of  his  eyes,  manifested 
as  settled  a  determination  to  remain  stationary,  as  was 
exhibited  on  the  part  of  his  resolute  mistress  in  urging  him 
forward.  At  length,  just  as  the  three  gentlemen  came  up, 
the  recusant  animal  reared  so  high  in  the  air  as  seemed  to 
endanger  the  life  of  the  rider ;  but  Dame  Doolittle,  seeing 
that  her  position  in  the  saddle  was  no  longer  tenable,  and 
regardless  of  the  alarming  elevation  to  which  she  was 
climbing,  sprang  forward  with  the  agility  of  a  wild-cat ; 

11 


122  MOUNT     HOPE. 

and  throwing  her  withered  arms  around  the  neck  of  poor 
Davie,  continued  suspended  in  mid-air  until  he  yielded 
either  to  her  weight,  or  (as  that  was  not  ponderous)  more 
probably  to  the  fears  of  a  flagellation  that  seemed  likely  to 
be  the  consequence  of  his  rebellion.     She  had  no  sooner 
come  within    reaching   distance  of  the  ground,  than  the 
captain,  who  was  the  very  nonpareil  of  gallantry  in  all  his 
conduct  towards  her  sex,  caught  her  firmly  around  her 
waist  (if,  indeed,   she   could  be   said  to  have  any),  and, 
detaching  her  clenched  hands  from  Davie's  mane,  placed 
her  gently  on  her  feet.     But  she  sprang  from  him  with  a 
scream,  which  the  privateer  at  first  mistook  for  offended 
modesty,  but  soon  saw  that  it  was  only  disappointed  rage  at 
being  robbed  of  her  victim;  for  without  once  deigning  to 
bestow  a  look  of  approval  upon  her  chivalrous  protector, 
and  even  turning  her  back  upon  him,  she  seized  the  bit  of 
Davie's  bridle,  and  concentrated  all  her  powers  of  mind  and 
body  in  plying  the  beast  with  the  whip  over  head  and  ears, 
until  she  was  compelled  to  desist,  apparently  rather  from 
exhaustion  than  from  having  dealt  out  to  him  what  she 
deemed  an  adequate  measure  of  retributive  justice.     Davie 
bore  the  punishment  with  that  heroic  fortitude  with  which 
long  experience  of  the  ills  of  life  endues  both  men  and 
animals — only  protesting  against  its  severity  by  shutting 
his  eyes,  shaking  his  ears  violently,  and  lifting  his  head  as 
high  in  the  air  as  possible.     The  faint  but  shrill  exclama 
tion  of  "  There,  ye  ring-boned,  unsightly  rack,  take  that  for 
this  time,  and  rest  content!" — signified  to  Davie  that  he 
might  again  open  his  eyes  in  safety,  and  look  around  him. 
The  hue  of  exercise,  and  perhaps  of  shame,  at  being 
surprised  by  a  stranger  in  such  a  paroxysm  of  rage,  had 
not  left  the  cheek  of  the  dame,  when  Dr.  Sherman,  who 
knew  all  her  moods,  and  from  his  ill-disguised  merriment 


MOUNT     HOPE.  123 

evidently  enjoyed  the  exhibition,  and  looked  forward  with 
high  glee  to  the  approaching  introduction,  said,  with  great 
assumed  gravity,  "  Captain  Moseley,  I  have  the  pleasure  of 
introducing  to  you  an  old  friend  of  mine,  Miss  Dorothy 
Doolittle,  the  proprietress  of  one  of  the  best  '  Publics '  in  the 
whole  colony  of  Connecticut." 

No  man  ever  enjoyed  a  joke  when  he  felt  that  it  inflicted 
no  pain  upon  another,  more  heartily  than  Moseley.  He 
lifted  his  cap,  and  bowed  as  profoundly  as  if  the  landlady 
of  the  Pomperauge  Public  had  been  the  Duchess  of  Kent, 
and  had  possessed  all  the  personal  attractions  of  the  fairest 
heroine  that  ever  graced  the  pages  of  romance.  He  res 
ponded  to  the  presentation,  by  saying  that  he  "was  proud 
of  such  an  ally  in  the  campaign,  but  regretted  the  necessity, 
whatever  it  was,  that  had  subjected  her  to  so  toilsome  and 
perilous  a  journey. 

"  La !  your  honour,  and  ye  may  well  say  so,  seeing  that 
I  have  shut  up  the  Public,  and  exposed  my  life  to  the 
arrows  and  tomahawks  of  these  infernal  salvages.  But 
how  could  I  help  it?  There  was  poor  Emily,  that  was  the 
very  apple  of  my  bereaved  eyes,  torn  from  me  by  the 
copper-headed  varmints  in  the  very  midst  of  the  straw- 
berry  season !  What  should  I  do  but  saddle  Davie,  and 
follow  after  my  sweet  darling?  Life  is  nothing  without 
Emily,  your  honour.  Who  but  she  could  make  the  fires, 
and  stamp  the  butter  with  her  pretty  white  hands,  and 
water  the  flowers  in  the  garden-patch,  and  run  wherever  I 
sent  her  of  errands  from  one  end  of  the  valley  to  the  other, 
as  daintily  as  a  fawn,  without  ever  fearing  wolf  or  rattle 
snake  ?  Oh,  sir !  it 's  a  doleful  thing  to  die ;  but  I  had 
almost  rather  have  died,  than  have  lost  the  sweet  young 
bird." 

This  rhapsody,  so  oddly  made  up  of  self-interest  and  real 


124  MOUNT     HOPE. 

affection,  was  literally  strangled  by  a  storm  of  grief  that 
shook  the  frame  of  Mrs.  DooKttle,  and  showered  its  drops 
copiously  over  her  hard,  forbidding  features. — Such  exhi 
bitions  of  sorrow  are  not  always  becoming,  unless  the 
subject  of  them  possesses  rare  personal  attractions;  but 
they  are  always  embarrassing  to  third  parties,  and  seldom 
fail  to  awaken  our  sensibilities. 

Captain  Moseley  had  not  been  able  to  gather  from  what 
his  informant  had  so  abruptly  and  vaguely  communicated 
to  him,  any  thing  of  the  particulars  of  her  affliction ;  but 
readily  gleaned  from  what  she  said  that  a  young  female 
in  whom  she  was  interested  had  fallen  a  prey  to  the  depre 
dations  of  the  savages,  then  of  so  common  occurrence ;  and 
inferred,  from  finding  her  in  the  army,  that  Philip  or  some 
one  of  his  adherents  was  privy  to  the  transaction. — He 
therefore  replied,  with  heartfelt  sympathy,  "Cheer  up,  good 
Mistress  Doolittle,  and  put  a  better  face  upon  the  matter. 
I  have  no  doubt  we  shall  be  able  to  rescue  your  young 
friend.  She  will  suffer  no  other  harm  than  belongs  to  the 
rough  exposure  and  coarse  fare  which  the  Indians  will 
share  in  common  with  her.  I  hope  soon  to  have  Philip  in 
my  own  power,  and  it  shall  go  hard  with  me  but  I  will 
make  him  deliver  her  up  safely  into  your  hands." 

At  the  mention  of  Philip's  name,  the  face  of  the  afflicted 
woman  underwent  a  total  change  of  expression.  A  moment 
before,  she  had  been  the  very  imbodiment  of  despair,  but 
now  her  features  were  suddenly  distorted  with  the  most 
vindictive  fury.  "  Philip — yes,  the  black-a-moor  Philip ! — 
that  is  the  name  of  the  wretch  that  stole  away  my  poor 
niece. — Catch  him,  quoth  he?  If  you  catch  him,  captain, 
I  pray  your  honour  to  give  me  the  handling  of  him.  I'll 
tell  him  what  I  think  of  him  to  his  face,  I  trow !  If  his 
whole  tribe  should  yell  in  my  ears,  they  will  never  drown 


MOUNT     HOPE.  125 

the  voice  of  Dorothea  Doolittle  when  she  calls  him  a  thief — 
a  liar — a  vagabond — a  black  heathen  devil !  And  then 
give  me  but  the  hanging  of  him,  your  honour,  he  shall 
swing  upon  a  gallows  higher  than  Haman's?" 

"You  shall  be  consulted  as  to  the  mode  of  his  execution, 
good  dame,"  said  Moseley,  with  difficulty  suppressing  a 
laugh  at  the  vehement  manner  in  which  she  enunciated  her 
sanguinary  purposes.  "But  where  is  Billy  Ashford?" 

"Here  he  is!"  shouted  a  dozen  privateer  voices  at  once. 

"Here  I  am,  as  ready  to  fight  in  a  just  cause  as  when  I 
walked  the  deck  of  our  good  ship,"  replied  Ashford. 

"Come  aside  with  me  a  moment  under  this  pine :  I  would 
confer  with  you."  '  . .'•: 

They  withdrew  a  little  apart  from  the  others,  and  Mose 
ley  then  recounted  to  his  young  friend  what  he  had  heard 
from  the  top  of  the  hill,  and  made  known  to  him  his  suspi 
cions  that  the  rustling  of  the  dry  leaves  was  caused  by 
Indians  creeping  upon  their  hands  and  knees,  and  that  he 
had  good  reason  to  suppose  that  it  might  have  been  Philip 
or  some  one  of  his  allies.  "  For,"  added  he,  "  I  am  sure 
that  the  crafty  fox  is  lurking  somewhere  within  the  range 
of  half  a  dozen  miles.  What  say  you,  shall  we  go  over 
the  hill,  and  put  Pedro's  nose  upon  the  track  ?" 

"That  were  the  surest  way  of  solving  our  doubts, 
captain." 

"Pedro  is  a  sulky  hound,  and  will  snuff  no  track,  were 
it  that  of  a  fiend  of  hell,  save  at  my  own  bidding.  Ash 
ford,  what  say  you,  shall  I  have  an  escort?" 

Ashford  now  chose  half  a  dozen  men  to  secure  them 
from  ambush  or  sudden  surprise,  and  Moseley  commanded 
Cornelius  to  unchain  Pedro  with  the  other  hounds,  and 
accompany  them. 

"  I  vill  not  dare  meet  Pedro  vid  de  more  nine  hoonds,  no 
11* 


126  MOUNT     HOPE. 

more  as  I  meet  so  many  vicked  night-spirit,"  said  Cornelius, 
deprecatingly.  "I  has  no  sorrow  to  meet  twenty  Kings 
Philips,  put  I  fear  te  hoonds  and  te  spirits." 

"And  if  you  do  not  fear  the  halter  more  than  either,  Sir 
Scape-grace,  you  will  loose  Pedro  immediately,"  said  the 
captain,  sternly. 

This  allusion  to  the  well-merited  rope  which  Cornelius 
had  escaped,  only  on  consideration  of  his  rendering  extra 
ordinary  personal  services  during  the  campaign,  overcame 
all  his  other  scruples ;  and  he  proceeded  to  the  spot  where 
the  dreaded  blood-hounds  were  fastened,  each  to  a  tree,  at 
such  distance  from  each  other  that  they  could  only  show 
their  mutual  hostility  by  an  occasional  growl,  or  by  the 
morose  expression  of  their  sullen  faces  and  malignant  eyes. 
Cornelius  feared  Pedro  more  than  all  the  other  dogs,  both  on 
account  of  his  size  and  the  fierceness  of  his  disposition, 
which  fell  little  short  of  that  of  the  worst  spirit  which  his 
tortured  imagination  could  conjure  up.  It  was  also  obvious 
that  the  dislike  was  reciprocated  on  the  part  of  Pedro ;  for 
no  sooner  had  the  Dutchman  arrived  within  a  few  feet  of 
him,  than  he  uttered  a  deep  growl,  and  sprang  like  a  rattle 
snake  the  entire  length  of  his  chain,  with  the  intention  doubt 
less  of  fixing  his  muzzle  in  the  throat  of  the  intermeddler. 

"You  are  right  for  once,  Cornelius,"  said  Moseley; 
"stay  a  minute,  and  I  will  do  the  office  with  my  own  hand. 
Down,  Pedro!  down,  dog! — hush,  I  say!  There's  game 
for  thee  not  far  distant,  old  boy." 

The  hound  submitted  sullenly  to  the  directions  of  his 
master,  drawing  nearer  to  the  tree  to  which  he  was  bound, 
and  lying  passive  until  he  was  liberated.  Then  dropping 
his  head,  he  walked  close  by  the  side  of  Moseley,  until 
the  party  reached  the  close  neighbourhood  of  the  place 
which  the  Dutchman  pointed  out  as  the  spot  whence  the 
rustling  sound  had  proceeded. 


MOUNT    HOPE.  127 

"It  vas  here  vare  I  hear't  te  leaves  rattle  and  shake, 
mine  goot  captain." 

They  all  looked  intently  upon  the  ground,  hut  not  a  leaf 
seemed  to  have  been  displaced,  nor  was  there  a.  vestige  of 
a  human  footstep. 

"It  cannot  be,"  said  Moseley,  doubtingly,  "that  we  are 
deceived,  after  all  the  precautions  taken  by  us  both  to 
mark  the  locality.  By  my  soul,  I  begin  to  question  if  the 
step  was  not  that  of  thy  bugbear  spirits,  Cornelius !  Come, 
Pedro!  wake  up,  man! — show  us  the  red-skins,  good 
Pedro." 

The  hound  seemed  now  for  the  first  time  to  manifest 
some  interest  in  the  sport ;  for  he  dropped  his  head,  and 
walked  cautiously  in  a  different  direction  from  that  indi 
cated  by  his  master's  hand,  a  distance  of  several  rods ; 
then  stopped,  placed  his  nose  close  to  the  ground,  gave  one 
eager  cry,  and  started  off,  followed  by  the  other  hounds  at 
a  quickened  pace  and  in  a  very  circuitous  course,  awaking 
the  echoes  of  the  woods  as  they  threaded  the  crooked  trail 
with  that  deep  terrible  cry,  so  startling  and  horrible  to  the 
ears  of  the  ill-fated  victim  who  knows  that  his  track  is 
beset  by  that  most  indefatigable  and  unrelenting  of  all  man- 
hunters. 

All  was  now  bustle  and  excitement.  Moseley's  eye 
kindled  at  the  prospect  of  the  stirring  adventure;  and 
turning  to  Savage,  who  stood  near  him,  he  said,  "  Pedro  is 
right,  lieutenant :  his  nose  never  misleads  him ;  we  need 
never  doubt  there's  game  ahead.  Hark  again! — the  red 
skins  are  at  bay  e'en  now :  bring  up  the  troops,  Savage. 
Ashford  and  the  rest  will  follow  in  due  time."  And  vault 
ing  into  his  saddle,  he  led  the  way  in  the  direction  taken 
by  his  blood-thirsty  pioneers.  They  had  scarcely  ridden 
fifty  rods,  when  they  heard  the  report  of  a  musket,  and 


128  MOUNT     HOPE. 

then  the  maddened  cry  of  the  dogs,  followed  by  three  or 
four  dropping  shots  in  quick  succession. 

"He  has  them,"  said  the  privateer,  addressing  himself 
to  Ashford,  and  at  the  same  time  plunging  the  spurs  deeper 
into  the  sides  of  his  horse — "  he  has  them ;  but,  poor  fellow  ! 
I  fear  some  one  of  those  bullets  has  let  his  life  out.  No ; 
hark  again !  his  voice  rings  loud  and  clear  as  a  bugle's. 
But,  as  I  live,  there  is  an  Indian  directly  before  me.  run 
ning  as  if  for  his  life.  Stop :  I  can  shoot  him  as  he  runs." 

"  Hold,  captain !  for  the  love  of  God,  hold !  It  is  Pompe- 
rauge,  a  friendly  Indian,  and  one  of  my  own  company," 
shouted  Ashford. 

Moseley  dropped  the  carbine  upon  the  pommel  of  his 
saddle,  still  keeping  it  cocked,  however,  for  the  expected 
struggle,  which  he  had  good  reason  to  think  would  be  a 
desperate  one ;  and  reining  up  his  horse,  waited  a  moment, 
until  he  saw  that  the  main  body  of  the  troops,  under  the 
command  of  Savage,  had  filed  out  of  the  dale,  and  were 
fast  approaching,  so  that  they  could  be  employed,  should 
the  enemy  prove  too  numerous.  On  looking  around  to 
resume  his  conversation  with  Ashford,  he  saw  that  he  had 
left  his  side,  and  was  only  able  to  obtain  a  passing  glimpse 
of  his  friend  just  as  he  turned  the  projection  of  a  rock  that 
hid  both  man  and  horse  from  his  view.  "  There  is  neither 
discipline  nor  prudence  in  that  fool-hardy  boy,"  muttered 
the  captain ;  he  would  lose  his  own  life,  and  think  it  pas 
time,  to  save  a  hair  of  the  head  of  yon  nimble-footed 
savage."  His  meditations  were  interrupted  by  the  report 
of  a  musket,  and  as  he  gained  the  rock  behind  which  Ash 
ford  had  disappeared,  the  whole  scene  was  in  full  view. 

Pomperauge  was  standing  behind  a  tree,  reloading  his 
gun,  which  he  had  just  discharged ;  and  Ashford,  having 
dismounted,  stood  behind  a  clump  of  laurel-bushes,  and 


MOUNT     HOPE.  129 

appeared  to  be  reconnoitering  the  enemy.  Six  Indians, 
perched  among  the  boughs  of  as  many  leafy  oaks,  at  a  safe 
distance  from  the  blood-hounds,  looked  off  upon  their  pur- 
suers,  and  one  lay  dead  at  the  feet  of  Pedro — the  mark 
undoubtedly  at  which  the  friendly  chief  had  just  directed 
his  unerring  aim.  One  of  the  dogs  lay  dead  near  the  body 
of  the  Indian ;  two  of  them  were  engaged  in  a  fierce  and 
mortal  duel  over  their  booty ;  old  Pedro  was  still  upon  his 
feet,  and  three  of  the  other  hounds  were  wounded ;  but  they 
all  joined  in  the  deep-voiced,  merciless  chorus  with  which 
the  whole  forest  resounded. 

"Speak  to  them  in  your  own  language,  and  tell  them  if 
they  will  drop  their  guns  and  surrender,  they  shall  not  be 
hurt,"  said  Moseley,  addressing  himself  to  the  friendly 
Indian. 

"  Wampanoag  no  understand  Pomperauge,"  replied  the 
chief,  in  broken  English. 

The  words  were  scarcely  uttered,  when  the  savage  who 
occupied  the  tree  nearest  the  laurel-bushes,  through  which 
the  form  of  Ashford  could  be  distinctly  seen,  rose  erect, 
and  taking  deliberate  aim  at  the  breast  of  his  enemy,  dis 
charged  his  piece.  The  ball,  which  else  must  have  taken 
fatal  effect,  struck  one  of  the  hard,  firm  limbs  of  the  shrub, 
and  glanced  off,  inflicting  only  a  slight  flesh-wound  in  the 
left  arm,  a  little  below  the  shoulder.  Stung  with  the  smart 
of  the  injury,  and  ignorant  of  its  extent,  he  rushed  out  from 
behind  his  imperfect  screen,  and  returned  the  shot,  in  spite 
of  the  remonstrances  of  his  superior  officer.  The  ball 
evidently  took  effect ;  for  the  Indian  dropped  his  gun,  and 
writhed  upon  the  branch  to  which  he  clung ;  but,  as  if 
from  very  instinct,  did  not  fall  to  the  ground. 

"Let  my  white  brother  take  to  his  shelter,"  said  Pompe 
rauge  :  "  be  two  more  guns  in  the  trees,  and  Pomperauge 
will  bring  down  one  of  them." 


130  MOUNT     HOPE. 

With  a  deadly  aim  he  again  brought  his  gun  to  his 
shoulder,  and  on  the  instant  one  of  the  armed  Indians  drop 
ped  dead  from  his  tree  into  the  jaws  of  the  pitiless  hounds, 
now  grown  so  frantic  and  ungovernable  from  the  taste  of 
blood,  that  although  the  remaining  Indians,  who  still  occu 
pied  their  places  among  the  branches  at  a  safe  elevation, 
now  asked  for  quarter,  neither  threats  nor  blows  could 
prevail  on  them  to  relinquish  their  lifeless  booty,  while  a 
trace  remained  of  the  features  and  forms  that  had  been  so 
lately  animated  with  the  passions  and  moved  by  the  impulses 
of  a  living  soul.  And  even  after  these  terrible  auxiliaries 
of  the  English  arms  had  yielded,  from  mere  exhaustion  of 
their  powers,  their  thirst  remained  unslaked,  and  they  lay 
panting  upon  the  ground,  looking  jealously  at  each  other, 
and  snarling  angrily  at  the  lacerated  trophies  of  their 
victory.  But  the  stern  voice  of  Moseley — "  Down,  Cortez, 
down! — hush,  Pedro!  fie — for  shame  !" — seconded  by  the 
severe  blows  which  he  dealt  upon  their  heads  and  backs — 
at  length  restored  them  to  discipline ;  but  so  terrible  was 
the  dread  inspired  in  the  minds  of  the  surviving  savages  at 
sight  of  these  monsters,  whom  they  believed  to  be  the 
agents  and  ministers  of  their  god  Hobbomocko,  that  it  was 
not  until  they  saw  them  safely  secured  with  chains,  and 
led  into  the  rear  of  the  English  troops,  that  they  consented 
to  trust  themselves  to  the  ground,  and  surrender  at  the  dis 
cretion  of  their  conqueror. 

It  is  but  due  to  Moseley  and  his  officers  to  state,  that  no 
living  enemy  had  been  consigned  to  the  tender  mercies  of 
these  tormentors,  and  that  all  possible  exertions  were  used 
to  prevent  this  cruel  mutilation  of  the  dead. 

The  last  of  the  Indians  to  deliver  himself  up  to  the  vic 
tors  was  an  old,  weather-beaten,  war-worn  savage,  who 
stood  upright  upon  a  branch  of  the  tree  to  which  he  had 


MOUNT    HOPE.  131 

resorted,  coolly  surveying  the  field,  with  his  musket  cocked, 
in  the  attitude  of  a  man  determined  to  sell  his  life  upon  the 
dearest  terms.  When  called  upon  by  Moseley  to  drop  his 
gun,  and  come  down  from  the  tree,  he  replied,  with  perfect 
composure  and  in  very  good  English — at  the  same  time 
pointing  to  the  hounds — "Let  the  white  captain  lead  the 
children  of  Hobomocko  further  off,  and  tie  them  to  that 
tree  by  the  rock,  and  the  chief  will  come  down."  This 
reasonable  request  having  been  complied  with,  he  fired  his 
piece  over  his  head  into  the  air,  and  dropped  it.  Then 
walking  leisurely  along  the  limb,  without  steadying  himself 
in  the  least  with  his  hands,  until  he  felt  his  slender  support 
bending  with  his  weight,  he  grasped  it  firmly,  and  dexter 
ously  let  himself  down  to  the  ground,  within  a  few  feet  of 
the  spot  where  Moseley  was  standing.  He  then  folded  his 
arms,  and  said,  with  great  dignity  of  manner,  "  The  chief  is 
the  prisoner  of  the  bad  children  of  the  god  of  evil." 

"What  is  your  name?" 

"Tatoson." 

"To  what  tribe  do  you  belong?" 

"  Wampanoags." 

"Where  is  Philip?" 

"  Tatoson  cannot  tell  where  the  great  sagamore  is :  think 
he  be  in  the  woods." 

"When  did  you  last  see  him?" 

"  Tatoson  cannot  tell  that.  Wampanoag  chief  not  remem 
ber  what  day  he  see  Philip,"  replied  the  chief,  doggedly. 

"You  must  remember,"  said  Moseley,  cocking  his  pistol, 
"or  die." 

The  captive  passed  the  fore-finger  of  his  right  hand 
rapidly  around  the  crown  of  his  head,  as  he  answered, 
"Let  the  white  captain  take  chief's  scalp:  he  knows,  but 
he  will  not  tell." 


132  MOUNT    HOPE. 

The  lofty  tone  of  the  savage,  the  utter  fearlessness  with 
which  he  seemed  to  look  upon  death,  the  frankness  with 
which  he  had  confessed  his  knowledge  of  the  hiding-place 
of  his  sachem,  and  the  unalterable  resolve  that  was  so 
plainly  stamped  upon  his  face  not  to  betray  the  man  to 
whom  he  had  plighted  his  allegiance,  awakened  instantly 
the  sensibilities  of  the  generous-hearted  privateer. 

"  Take  the  prisoner  into  custody,  and  see  that  he  is 
kindly  cared  for,"  said  he,  addressing  himself  to  Pickering. 

Pickering  took  the  chief  by  the  arm,  and  leading  him 
into  the  centre  of  the  little  army,  was  about  to  consign  him 
to  the  charge  of  Cornelius  and  one  of  the  friendly  Indians. 
But  as  the  Dutchman  advanced  in  the  attitude  of  "  carry 
arms"  to  take  his  captive  in  charge,  he  looked  scornfully 
upon  the  fat  corporal,  and  struck  the  firelock  to  the  earth 
with  such  violence  that  it  was  bent  almost  double  in  its  fall ; 
at  the  same  time,  pointing  to  Ashford,  and  exclaiming, 
haughtily,  "Tatoson  will  walk  with  that  chief:  little  pale 
face  and  little  red-man  not  fit  to  touch  great  chief." 

"Little!"  replied  Cornelius,  with  great  emphasis — not 
comprehending  the  sense  in  which  the  word  was  used,  and 
at  the  same  time  surveying  his  largely-developed  propor 
tions  with  evident  complacency — "little! — 'tis  pigger  as 
fife  of  him." 

"Give  him  his  way,"  said  Moseley,  laughing  at  the 
ludicrous  rage  of  his  corporal.  "Ashford,  will  you  take 
custody  of  Tatoson?" 

"Yes,  captain." 

The  chief  smiled  at  the  arrangement,  and  seemed  per- 
fectly  satisfied.  The  party  now  commenced  their  march 
in  an  easterly  direction,  sending  forward  videttes,  and  spy 
ing  out  the  way  with  great  caution,  to  avoid  the  possibility 
of  surprise. 


MOUNT     HOPE.  133 

Meanwhile,  Lathrop  and  his  men,  with  their  heavy  team- 
wagons  and  horses  laden  with  bags  of  wheat,  wound  slowly 
along  the  bank  of  the  Connecticut,  keeping  a  narrow  and 
crooked  path  that  could  have  been  scarcely  called  a  road, 
so  closely  did  the  trees  and  bushes  encroach  upon  its 
thread-like  trail  through  the  woods  and  lowlands  that  skirted 
the  river.  They  were  evidently  not  anticipating  any  danger 
from  sudden  attack  or  ambuscade ;  for  the  troops  marched 
a  good  way  in  front  of  the  wagons,  and  not  drawn  up  with 
any  pretensions  to  battle  order  or  even  discipline — strag 
gling  leisurely  along,  and  moving,  on  account  of  the  nar 
rowness  of  the  path,  either  two  abreast  or  in  Indian  file ; 
some  of  them  were  well  mounted,  but  most  of  the  escort 
was  made  up  of  infantry,  and  carried  only  heavy,  unwieldy 
muskets.  The  woods  echoed  blithely  with  the  cries  of  the 
teamsters  and  the  merry  shouts  of  the  soldiers,  and  many 
a  joke,  at  the  expense  of  Philip  and  his  hair-brained  enter 
prise,  was  responded  to  in  hearty,  unrestrained  bursts  of 
laughter.  For  the  distance  of  nearly  half  a  mile,  the  road 
now  ran  parallel  with  the  morass  above  described,  and 
almost  upon  its  very  border.  This  morass  was  thickly 
covered  with  alders,  and  interspersed  here  and  there  with 
the  yellow  birch,  red  ash,  soft  maple,  and  a  few  other  kinds 
of  forest-trees,  such  as  usually  abound  in  low  marshy 
ground.  Upon  either  side  of  the  road,  rambling  in  every 
direction  among  the  boughs  of  the  trees,  innumerable  grape 
vines  spread  their  leaves  so  luxuriantly  as  almost  to  hide 
from  view  the  less  ostentatious  foliage  of  the  branches  to 
which  they  clung  for  support,  and  exhibiting  in  the  hot 
September  sun  their  purple  clusters  temptingly  to  the  eye 
of  the  thirsty  soldiers.  The  sight  was  irresistible.  The 
whole  party  halted ;  and  while  the  younger  and  more  active 
climbed  the  trees  to  their  very  tops  to  secure  the  largest 
12 


134  MOUNT    HOPE. 

and  ripest  clusters,  those  who  remained  upon  the  ground 
caught  the  fruit  as  it  was  dropped  into  their  hands.  After 
having  slaked  their  thirst  with  this  crude  fare,  they  moved 
leisurely  on  as  before ;  and  crossing  the  brook  that  served 
to  drain  the  morass,  they  again  halted  under  the  shade  of 
the  tall  trees  that  grew  close  upon  the  bank,  to  await  the 
arrival  of  the  heavily-laden  wagons,  that  had  met  with  some 
delay  in  crossing  the  miry  bed  of  the  stream.  It  was  now 
ten  o'clock,  and  the  rays  of  the  sun,  intense  as  those  of  a 
harvest  morning,  gleamed  oppressively  through  the  open- 
ings  of  the  trees ;  not  a  leaf  waved  in  the  still  air  to  dispel 
the  dead,  smothered  heat ;  the  hum  of  the  horse-fly,  hover 
ing  about  the  horses  as  they  stood  in  the  pool,  and  the 
chatter  of  a  few  small  birds  as  they  hopped  from  branch  to 
branch,  were  the  only  sounds  that  interrupted  the  silence 
to  which  nature  seemed  abandoned.  Little  did  Lathrop 
and  his  men  dream  that  the  trees  rising  at  random  on  either 
side  of  the  path  in  front  of  them,  wherever  the  caprice  of 
the  autumn  winds  had  cast  the  acorn  or  the  chestnut,  con 
cealed  behind  their  trunks  hundreds  of  wild  and  desperate 
savages,  many  of  whom  were  better  armed  than  themselves, 
and  all  impatient  to  dart  like  panthers  upon  their  prey. 

Philip  had  stationed  himself  behind  an  oak  that  grew  not 
a  yard  from  the  east  line  of  the  path ;  and  on  its  opposite 
side,  concealed  from  view  by  a  rock,  lay  the  stern  old 
warrior  Anawan — his  musket  in  his  right  hand,  and  his 
eye  bent  upon  the  sachem.  No  sooner  did  the  Indians  see 
the  plume  that  adorned  the  head  of  their  chief  rising  slowly 
behind  the  tree  that  hid  him  from  the  English,  than  they 
rose  as  one  man ;  and  pouring  a  deadly  volley  of  bullets 
and  arrows  along  their  whole  line  upon  either  side  of  the 
path  into  the  ranks  of  their  astonished  enemy,  rushed  im 
petuously  upon  them  with  their  tomahawks  and  war-clubs, 


MOUNT     HOPE.  135 

at  the  same  time  uttering  their  terrific  war-whoop,  that 
pierced  the  deepest  recesses  of  the  woods  with  notes  more 
wild  than  the  cry  of  the  most  untameable  beast  of  prey  that 
inhabits  the  wilderness. 

But  those  who  made  up  the  little  company  of  Lathrop, 
amounting  to  eighty  in  number,  were  bold,  hardy  men — 
the  flower  of  Essex  county,  who,  in  the  language  of  the 
historians,  "were  not  ashamed  to  meet  the  enemy  in  the 
gates."  They  returned  the  fire  of  the  Indians  with  spirit 
and  effect,  and  disputed  the  ground  desperately,  inch  by 
inch,  as  they  retreated  into  the  bed  of  the  brook,  falling 
back  to  cover  their  wagons.  But,  as  we  have  before  men 
tioned,  they  had  few  weapons  except  their  guns,  which 
availed  them  little  in  their  hand-to-hand  conflict  with  adver 
saries  more  athletic  than  they,  whose  heavy  clubs  and  stone 
axes  might  have  felled  to  the  earth  a  whole  legion  of 
Roman  infantry. 

Philip  threw  himself  into  the  foremost  rank  of  the  enemy, 
wielding  his  immense  war-club  with  a  well-directed  force, 
and  sinking  his  sharp  tomahawk  deep  into  the  skulls  of 
those  who  encountered  him.  Captain  Lathrop  was  soon 
driven  into  the  pool,  on  the  other  side  of  which  Anawan, 
with  two  or  three  inferior  chiefs  at  his  side,  stood  in  the 
midst  of  the  narrow  path,  and  opposed  his  gigantic  bulk  to 
any  further  retreat.  Philip  pursued  Lathrop  into  the  middle 
of  the  brook,  and  the  two  leaders  met  at  close  hand-fight, 
standing  knee-deep  in  the  mud  and  water.  Lathrop  fought 
with  the  prowess  with  which  despair  always  inspires  the 
brave,  standing  firmly  at  bay,  and  turning  the  point  of  his 
sword  (already  crimsoned  with  the  heart's-blood  of  more 
than  one  savage)  against  the  sachem ;  but  every  blow  of 
the  sword  glanced  from  the  polished  surface  of  the  black 
war-club  as  if  it  had  been  plated  with  steel ;  and  at  length, 


136  MOUNT     HOPE. 

forcing  his  antagonist  against  the  wheel  of  a  wagon  that 
stretched  across  the  brook,  the  chief  wrested  his  weapon 
from  his  grasp ;  and  seizing  him  by  the  throat  with  his  left 
hand,  and  raising  his  tomahawk  with  his  right,  signified  to 
him  in  English  that  if  he  would  surrender,  his  life  should 
be  spared.  The  strangled  man,  unable  to  speak,  shook  his 
head,  and  at  the  same  time  raised  his  clenched  hand  men 
acingly,  when  the  tomahawk  was  buried  deep  in  his  fore 
head,  and  he  fell,  bubbling  out  his  last  breath  in  the  sediment 
of  the  pool,  into  which  the  infuriated  Indian  stamped  him 
with  his  feet. 

The  slaughter  now  became  general.  The  savages  fought 
like  so  many  devils,  crowding  around  the  border  of  the 
brook  to  preclude  all  chances  of  escape,  and  dealing  deadly 
blows,  every  one  of  which  told  upon  the  disordered  and  now 
almost  unresisting  colonists. 

Then  commenced  the  indiscriminate  butchery  of  the 
wounded,  protracted  with  all  the  ingenious  contrivances  of 
savage  torture. 

The  little  stream  flowed  red  with  the  life-current  of  the 
mangled  bodies  that  choked  its  waters,  or  augmented  its 
scanty  volume  with  the  tide  that  gushed  from  their  veins  as 
they  lay  gasping  upon  its  banks,  giving  it  for  the  first  time 
the  appellation  which  it  will  bear  as  long  as  the  memory  of 
this  fatal  ambuscade  shall  live  in  history  or  tradition — 
"The  Bloody  Brook."  Only  seven  of  Lathrop's  men 
escaped  the  general  massacre. 

Just  at  the  close  of  this  indiscriminate  butchery,  and  as 
the  conquerors  were  beginning  to  strip  the  bodies  of  the 
slain,  the  front  ranks  of  Moseley's  corps  filed  out  from 
behind  the  trees  at  a  little  distance  from  the  stream,  and 
advanced  steadily  upon  the  enemy. 

The  Indians  sprang  to  their  arms,  and  immediately  pre- 


MOUNT    HOPE.  137 

pared  to  receive  them.  Philip,  flushed  with  the  success  of 
his  recent  victory,  facing  the  enemy,  and  brandishing  his 
tomahawk,  cried,  tauntingly,  "Come,  Moseley,  come!  you 
seek  Indians — you  want  Indians — here  be  Indians  enough 
for  you !"  At  the  same  time,  as  if  to  verify  his  words,  he 
pointed  exultingly  to  the  seven  hundred  painted  warriors 
that  filled  the  road,  and  lowered  among  the  foliage  of  the 
bushes  that  lined  its  sides.  In  reply  to  this  significant 
appeal  to  their  numbers  and  ferocity,  the  savages  set  up  a 
joyful,  triumphant  yell.  But  not  a  gun  was  fired.  The 
prudent  Moseley  sounded  a  halt  before  coming  within  fair 
musket-shot,  and  calling  Ashford,  with  his  two  lieutenants, 
Savage  and  Pickering,  to  his  side,  quietly  examined  the 
ground  and  the  position  of  the  enemy. 

"The  black  devils  have  shown  some  skill  in  choosing 
their  ground,"  said  the  captain,  with  as  much  coolness  and 
apparent  indifference  as  if  he  was  about  to  be  an  idle  spec 
tator  of  a  bull-fight.  "What  course  would'st  thou  take, 
Ashford,  if  the  management  of  this  little  frolic  were  turned 
over  to  thy  hands]" 

"What  course  would  I  take,  captain?  I  would  rush 
down  upon  them  at  the  head  of  my  men,  and  brush  them 
into  the  morass  as  heartily  as  I  would  board  a  ship  when  I 
came  alongside  her." 

"  What  mode  of  attack  would  Lieutenant  Savage  adopt?" 
inquired  Moseley,  smiling  at  the  characteristic  answer  of 
his  favourite. 

Savage  looked  intently  at  the  enemy,  and  shaking  his 
head,  replied,  gravely,  "There  must  be  a  thousand  of 
them,  captain,  and  we  have  scarcely  a  tenth-part  their 
number  of  effective  men.  Might  I  venture  to  differ  from 
Mr.  Ashford,  I  should  say  that  we  had  better  fight  Indians 
after  the  Indian  fashion,  and  betake  ourselves  every  man  to 
12* 


138  MOUNT     HOPE. 

his  tree.  We  can  soon  cut  down  the  chiefs,  and  then  we 
may  fight  at  close  hand  with  better  success." 

"  You  are  both  right  and  both  wrong,"  replied  the  captain, 
promptly ;  "  but  our  first  care  is  to  dispose  of  the  horses ; 
for  now  that  they  have  safely  brought  us  here,  they  will 
but  cumber  the  ground. — Cornelius!" 

"  I  pe  here,  goot  captain,"  responded  the  scape-gallows, 
rolling  his  round  bulk  within  fair  speaking  distance;  "I  pe 
just  vat  you  call  him  right  here,  put  te  cursed  salvages  do 
howl  so  like  ten  hoondret  cat  of  te  moontain  tat  I  can  no 
more  as  hear  vat  you  say." 

"  Hush !  we  have  no  time  for  speeches  from  the  like  of 
you.  Mark  what  I  have  to  say :  take  the  young  lad  Austin, 
with  ten  good  Pomperauge  men,  and  guard  the  horses  with 
Dame  Doolittle  on  yonder  knoll.  Die  a  hard  death, 
Cornelius,  but  mind  you,  never  give  up  your  charge." 

"  Moseley  then  glanced  again  at  the  Indians,  who  still 
continued  to  hold  the  same  taunting  language  as  before ;  a 
few  of  the  chiefs  dancing  backward  and  forward  in  front 
of  the  main  body,  and  pointing  to  the  dead  bodies  of  La- 
throp's  men  that  lay  scattered  over  the  field,  with  that 
intense  scorn  which  none  but  the  features  and  gestures 
of  the  North  American  Indian  can  express — his  eye  finally 
rested  on  Ashford.  "  Take  Pomperauge  and  his  men,  with 
six  of  our  privateers,  and  file  to  the  right  under  yonder 
tall  pine ;  and  you,  Savage,  take  twenty  good  men,  and  file 
to  the  left  an  equal  distance.  Pickering  will  stay  with  me. 
Then  we  will  all  rush  boldly  up  within  two  rods  of  their 
chiefs,  and  after  we  have  received  their  shot,  fire  upon 
them." 

The  arrangements  were  made  in  a  moment,  and  the 
three  companies — Moseley  keeping  the  road,  and  conse 
quently  most  exposed  to  the  enemy's  shot — began  their 


MOUNT     HOPE.  139 

march,  all  verging  toward  the  main  body  of  the  savages^ 
who,  still  confident  of  an  easy  victory,  remained  near  the 
brook.  But  the  wily  Philip,  probably  conscious  that  his 
new  enemy  were  better  armed  with  muskets  than  his  own 
party,  or  resolving  to  reserve  his  fire  for  some  subsequent 
stage  of  the  battle,  advanced  to  meet  Moseley  with  about 
two  hundred  well-chosen  warriors,  having  committed  all 
their  guns  to  the  charge  of  those  who  remained  behind, 
and  bearing  only  the  terrible  weapons  of  a  close  con 
flict  hand  to  hand.  An  open  encounter  was  not  what 
Moseley  expected  from  the  rumours  which  he  had  heard 
of  Indian  warfare,  nor  did  Philip  often  practise  it ;  but  he 
was  now  intoxicated  with  the  recent  triumph  of  his  arms 
over  the  routed  and  almost  annihilated  forces  of  Lathrop, 
and  hurried  recklessly  on  to  meet  an  enemy  that  scarcely 
seemed  superior  to  the  former  in  numbers  or  position. 

But  he  had  evidently  a  man  of  quite  different  mould  to 
contend  against.  Moseley  had  disposed  his  men  in  compact 
columns,  with  instructions  that  each  rank  as  it  discharged 
its  shot  should  fall  into  the  rear  and  reload,  and  thus  bring 
the  guns  of  the  next  succeeding  column  to  bear  upon  the 
Indians.  Both  parties  now  moved  rapidly  on,  the  savages 
almost  running,  and  brandishing  their  ponderous  clubs  and 
axes ;  while  the  forces  of  Moseley  kept  the  steady  deter 
mined  pace  of  well-disciplined  English  soldiers.  Moseley 
marched  a  little  to  the  right  of  the  front  rank  upon  the 
eastern  line  of  the  road,  his  keen  eye  fixed  on  the  enemy, 
and  his  swarthy  features  rigid  and  grim  as  those  of  the 
implacable  sachem  whom  he  saw  advancing  towards  him. 
When  the  hostile  parties  had  come  within  about  three  rods 
of  each  other,  Moseley,  sounded  A  HALT.  Philip,  who  was 
easily  distinguishable  from  the  other  chiefs,  not  only  by 
the  hereditary  plumes  which  he  wore,  but  by  his  gigantic 


140  MOUNT     HOPE. 

stature  and  the  loftiness  of  his  bearing,  brought  his  warriors 
also  to  a  sudden  stand,  and  addressing  Moseley  by  name, 
commanded  him  in  English  to  surrender  himself.  The 
word  "Fire!"  that  broke  from  the  iron  lips  of  the  old 
privateer,  followed  by  a  discharge  of  musketry  along  his 
whole  front  line,  attended  with  the  most  deadly  effect,  was 
the  only  answer  to  the  summons.  Philip  did  not  wait  for 
a  second  shot ;  and  before  the  file  of  soldiers  who  had  dis 
charged  their  pieces  could  give  place  to  another,  the  war. 
whoop  had  pierced  to  the  very  heart  of  the  forest,  and  ere 
its  echoes  had  died  upon  the  summer  air,  the  blade  of  steel 
and  the  black  war-club  were  in  fearful  collision. 

The  English  withstood  this  terrible  assault  gallantly, 
and  wherever  the  sharp  voice  of  their  captain  was  dis 
tinguishable  above  the  confused  din  of  blows  and  the 
yells  of  the  Indians,  there  the  handful  of  privateers  who 
fought  desperately  near  his  person  dealt  their  deadliest 
blows.  All  discipline  was  now  comparatively  at  an  end, 
and  Englishmen  and  savages  were  mingled  confusedly 
together — some  fighting  with  their  weapons,  and  others, 
clenched  in  mortal  struggle,  rolled  upon  the  ground.  It 
was  not  until  the  savages,  from  their  superior  numbers  and 
dexterity,  had  gained  a  decided  advantage,  and  were  likely 
to  overwhelm  his  little  company,  that  Moseley  ordered  them 
to  retreat  behind  the  trees  that  stood  close  at  hand.  Philip 
and  his  men  also  provided  for  their  own  security  in  a  sim 
ilar  manner,  when  another  company  of  Indians  under 
Tyasque,  with  a  supply  of  muskets  and  bows  and  arrows, 
came  to  their  relief.  Then  began  one  of  those  terrible 
trials  of  sharp  shooting  with  which  the  annals  of  our  early 
history  abound,  enlivened  by  scattering  shots  from  tree  to 
tree  and  copse  to  copse,  wherever  an  enemy  had  found  a 
lodgement  Every  man  was  thrown  upon  his  own  resources, 
and  obliged  to  trust  to  his  own  skill  and  prowess. 


MOUNT    HOPE.  141 

As  might  have  been  expected,  in  so  promiscuous  a  con 
test,  it  was  difficult  to  distinguish  the  covert  of  a  friend  from 
that  of  an  enemy;  and  no  one  knew,  when  he  had  retired 
behind  his  lurking-place,  but  that  his  side  or  back  might  be 
exposed  to  the  eye  of  some  hostile  marksman  who  lay  con 
cealed  behind  the  nearest  tree. 

Lieutenant  Savage,  who  had  been  stationed  on  the  left 
side  of  the  road,  advanced  to  the  brook,  and  soon  succeeded 
in  compelling  the  savages  to  take  to  the  woods,  where  he 
easily  kept  them  at  bay  by  the  same  species  of  irregular 
warfare. 

At  the  very  outset  of  the  battle,  and  while  Moseley  was 
engaged  in  close  combat  with  Philip,  Ashford  proceeded 
with  his  few  English  and  Indians,  in  pursuance  of  the  plan 
marked  out  by  the  captain,  toward  the  brook.  But  he  soon 
saw  that  the  order  of  the  fight  had  been  changed  by  the 
unexpected  mode  of  attack  of  the  sachem,  and  that  a  large 
body  of  Indians,  under  an  old  gray-haired  chief,  was 
moving  briskly  toward  him.  He  determined  not  to  be 
anticipated  in  the  attack ;  and  committing  all  the  friendly 
Indians  to  the  exclusive  care  of  Pomperauge,  and  gath 
ering  his  handful  of  privateers,  who  avowed  their  read 
iness  to  die  for  him,  he  rushed  through  the  bushes  with 
the  impetuosity  that  characterized  all  his  movements  full 
upon  the  Indians.  For  this  precipitate  onslaught  the  sav 
ages  seemed  ill  prepared,  and  began  to  scatter  to  seek  out 
their  usual  hiding-places  behind  the  trees.  But  the  old 
chief  turned  about,  and  shaking  his  steel  hatchet  in  his 
right  hand,  and  pointing  to  the  English,  who  had  now 
approached  within  fair  pistol-shot,  shouted,  fiercely,  "I-oo- 
tash!  I-oo-tash!"  which  was  answered  by  a  repetition  of 
the  word  by  a  hundred  savage  voices,  as  his  emboldened 
followers  rallied  and  pressed  stoutly  on.  The  privateers 


142  MOUNT     HOPE. 

knew,  from  the  fire  that  lighted  up  Ashford's  eye,  and  the 
swollen  veins  that  seemed  almost  bursting  upon  his  fore 
head,  that  there  was  wild  work  in  hand,  and  grasped  their 
swords  and  clenched  their  teeth  as  they  had  been  accus 
tomed  to  do  on  seaboard  when  scaling  the  sides  of  an 
enemy's  ship.  In  striking  contrast  to  the  joyous  exultation 
that  lighted  up  the  features  of  the  young  privateer  at  the 
prospect  of  an  encounter  with  the  far-famed  Anawan,  were 
the  slender  figure,  calm  blue  eye,  and  cool  courage  of 
Sherman,  as  he  moved  forward,  keeping  close  by  the  side 
of  his  headstrong  companion. 

The  Indians  met  their  charge  boldly,  responding  to  the 
significant  war-cry  of  Anawan,  and  almost  surrounding 
their  assailants  with  more  than  double  their  number  of 
effective  men  ;  for  although  Pomperauge  fought  with  great 
bravery,  yet  not  half  his  men  could  be  brought  into  combat 
with  the  enemy,  when  once  they  had  learned  that  the 
dreaded  Anawan,  whose  fame  had  found  its  way  to  every 
wigwam  in  the  limits  of  the  colonies,  was  in  the  field. 

But  the  struggle  was  soon  ended  ;  for  while  Ashford  was 
engaged  in  a  desperate  grapple  with  the  old  chief,  and 
seemed  likely  to  fall  a  victim  to  a  blow  of  his  axe,  Sherman, 
by  the  timely  discharge  of  a  pistol,  broke  the  arm  of  the 
savage  while  his  weapon  was  still  poised  in  the  air,  and, 
both  rushing  upon  him  at  the  same  instant,  made  him  their 
prisoner  without  further  resistance,  and  immediately  placed 
him  under  guard. 

The  capture  of  Anawan  was  the  signal  of  retreat  for  his 
men,  and  was  followed  by  a  volley  of  well-aimed  shot  from 
the  English,  and  a  flight  of  arrows  from  the  few  friendly 
Indians  that  still  stood  their  ground.  Anawan  was  con 
ducted  to  a  rock  near  by,  where  Sherman  attended  upon 
him  without  delay,  restoring  the  fragments  of  the  shattered 


MOUNT     HOPE.  143 

bone  to  their  places,  and  binding  the  disabled  arm  carefully 
with  ligaments  to  keep  the  parts  in  their  natural  position. 
The  wounded  savage  looked  gravely  on  without  moving  a 
muscle  of  his  face,  and  without  evincing  the  slightest  sensa 
tion  of  pain  or  the  least  concern  at  the  success  or  failure 
of  the  operation. 

A  rambling  fight  was  kept  up  in  various  parts  of  the 
ill-defined  field  throughout  the  remainder  of  the  day  with 
various  success — the  scene  of  the  conflict  shifting  from 
place  to  place  as  fortune  lent  a  faint  and  transient  smile  to 
either  party.  In  spite  of  her  remonstrances  and  threats 
of  vengeance  upon  the  head  of  Philip,  the  Indians  under 
Tyasque  had  already  possessed  themselves  of  Dame  Doo- 
little  and  all  the  horses,  together  with  the  person  of  Dick 
Austin.  The  valorous  Cornelius  was  also  a  prisoner. 

It  was  now  nearly  sunset ;  and  Philip,  in  high  spirits  at 
the  result  of  the  contest,  and  fearing  no  further  attack  from 
the  exhausted  English,  returned  with  all  his  men,  carrying 
with  them  their  own  dead  and  wounded,  and  those  of  the 
enemy,  to  the  place  where  the  bodies  of  Lathrop  and  his 
companions  lay  scattered  about  the  bank  of  the  brook  or 
floating  on  its  bloody  pool,  and  recommenced  their  work  of 
stripping  and  scalping  the  slain ;  offering  at  the  same  time 
the  most  horrible  indignities  to  the  dead,  suspending  their 
bodies  upon  trees  with  the  head  downward,  or  cutting  off 
the  limbs  of  the  wounded,  and  then  holding  them  up  to  the 
view  of  Moseley  and  his  men. 

After  they  had  completely  sated  their  thirst  for  blood, 
they  proceeded  to  the  wagons,  still  laden  with  the  wheat 
that  Lathrop  had  tried  in  vain  to  guard,  and  that  still  filled 
the  road  with  their  long  train ;  and  with  that  recklessness 
of  the  future  so  peculiar  to  the  Indian  character,  knocked 
the  horses  upon  the  head,  and  cutting  open  the  bags  of 


144  MOUNT     HOPE. 

grain,  scattered  their  contents  wantonly  among  the  dry 
leaves  that  strewed  the  surface  of  the  woods. 

Moseley,  shocked  and  enraged  at  the  barbarities  which 
he  had  thus  been  compelled  to  witness,  addressed  himself 
to  Ashford  :  "  I  neither  can  nor  will  remain  longer  a  silent 
spectator  of  this  horrible  scene.  What  say  you,  Ashford 
—shall  we  turn  prudence  out  of  doors,  and  try  another 
hazard  with  these  monsters?  Five  to  one  is  a  fearful 
odds." 

"Let  us  dislodge  them  from  the  field  or  die,"  replied 
Ashford,  springing  to  his  feet. 

The  troops  were  soon  led  against  the  savages,  who  met 
them  with  renewed  zeal.  Ashford  had  no  sooner  reached 
the  spot  where  Lathrop  had  fallen,  than  he  was  met  by 
Philip,  -and  after  a  severe  struggle,  was  struck  senseless  to 
the  earth  by  a  blow  from  the  tomahawk  of  the  chief,  and 
borne  instantly  into  the  midst  of  the  enemy ;  at  the  same 
moment  Anawan,  knocking  down  the  soldiers  who  had  him 
in  charge,  fled  from  the  English  in  defiance  of  the  muskets 
that  were  brought  to  bear  upon  him,  and,  crossing  the 
Stream,  joined  his  warriors. 

The  savage  yell  that  greeted  the  return  of  the  old  saga 
more  was  interrupted  by  the  roll  of  a  drum ;  and  on  looking 
around,  the  Indians  saw,  to  their  astonishment,  that  a  new 
and  more  formidable  enemy  was  in  the  field. 

It  was  indeed  a  joyful  sight  to  Moseley  and  his  men  as 
Major  Treat,  with  one  hundred  hardy  men  from  Connect 
icut,  and  sixty  Mohegan  Indians,  filed  out  of  the  woods  into 
full  view,  and  marched  briskly  down  to  their  rescue.  They 
halted  for  a  moment,  while  the  invincible  old  farmer  dis 
mounted,  and  tied  his  faithful  Pym  to  a  tree  that  stood  near 
the  road,  notwithstanding  his  remonstrating  against  the 
indignity  by  snorting  and  pawing  up  the  withered  leaves, 


MOUNT     HOPE.  145 

and  then  moved  on  again.  He  held  a  short  consultation 
with  Moseley ;  and  drawing  up  his  forces  upon  the  bank 
of  the  stream,  commenced  a  general  fire  upon  the  Indians, 
every  shot  of  which  told  with  fatal  effect.  Philip  saw  that 
the  scale  of  victory  had  turned ;  and  returning  the  fire  with 
the  last  volley  of  his  exhausted  magazine  of  powder  and 
ball,  fled  with  his  whole  train  into  the  fastnesses  of  the 
woods,  leaving  the  colonists  in  undisturbed  possession  of 
the  field,  and  of  the  bodies  of  one  hundred  of  his  bravest 
and  most  faithful  allies. 

18 


146  MOUNT     HOPE. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

"A  dream — that  was  not  all  a  dream." — BYRON. 

WITH  that  disregard  of  the  ordinary  processes  of  loco- 
motion  which  is  permitted  to  the  author  of  such  a  work  as 
the  present,  we  must  now  retrace  our  steps,  and  try  if  we 
can  discover  any  thing  of  the  fair  young  captive  who  plays 
so  important  a  part  in  our  narrative.  The  reader  has 
witnessed  the  struggle  on  the  part  of  her  friends  to  rescue 
her  from  the  hands  of  Randolph,  and  its  fruitless  termina 
tion.  After  the  conflict  was  over,  she  was  led  by  the 
savages  and  such  of  the  English  as  had  escaped  the  sword 
of  the  assailing  (for  we  can  hardly  call  them  the  victorious) 
party,  still  in  a  northerly  direction,  but  whither  she  was 
unable  to  determine. 

The  party  usually  travelled  during  the  night  with  great 
caution,  and  rested  during  the  day  in  the  most  secluded 
places  that  the  woods  afforded.  The  third  day  after  the 
fall  of  Randolph,  they  had  continued  their  march  until 
nearly  mid-day,  and  then,  turning  abruptly  from  their 
course  to  a  solitary  hill-side  covered  with  a  variety  of 
forest-trees,  among  which  the  pine  predominated,  halted 
near  a  spring  that  bubbled  up  from  the  shelter  of  a  black- 
browed  rock,  around  the  rugged  sides  of  which  three  or 
four  large  pines  had  contrived  to  fasten  their  roots  in  the 
soil.  The  waters  of  the  fountain  rippled  softly  down  the 
declivity,  partly  hidden  by  the  green  grass  that  marked 
their  rambling  course,  till  they  were  swallowed  in  the 


MOUNT     HOPE.  147 

current  of  a  swift  brook  that  swept  through  the  adjacent 
valley. 

Anne  Willoughby  had  wandered  many  a  weary  mile, 
and  was  faint  from  fatigue  and  the  oppressive  heat  of  the 
sun  that  seemed  smothered  beneath  the  close  foliage  of  the 
pines.  After  bathing  her  forehead  and  temples  in  the 
dimpled  surface  of  the  spring,  and  sharing  with  the  sav 
ages  their  scanty  meal  of  venison  and  corn,  she  laid  her- 
self  down  beneath  the  shade  of  the  trees,  and  yielded  her 
mind  to  the  images  which  their  moaning  sound,  blended 
with  the  trickling  of  the  flowing  water,  could  not  fail  to 
awaken,  till  she  gradually  sank  into  a  deep  slumber. 

It  was  not  the  sweet  sleep  that  had  so  often  restored  her 
exhausted  powers  in  the  garden-bower  or  in  the  cottage- 
chamber  where  the  honey-suckle  climbed  the  lattice ;  but 
it  was  broken  and  disturbed  with  phantoms,  which  were 
not  the  less  horrible  that  they  were  uncertain  and  indistinct 
in  their  outline. 

She  dreamed  over  again  the  innocent  hours  of  childhood. 
Associations  long  forgotten  or  imperfectly  remembered — 
associations  checkered  with  some  of  those  dark  clouds  that 
overshadowed  her  family  during  the  struggle  between  the 
Protector  and  the  monarch — came  crowding  upon  her  mind. 
Now  a  mother's  soft  voice  mingled  strangely  with  the  death- 
shriek  of  a  brother,  and  the  next  moment  the  pale  face  of 
a  murdered  father,  the  blood  still  welling  from  the  wound 
inflicted  by  the  poniard,  seemed  to  smile  faintly  on  her  as 
it  was  borne  by  in  friendly  arms. 

With  that  almost  supernatural  activity  with  which  sleep 
wings  the  faculties,  all  the  events  of  her  life,  and  all  the 
hopes  and  fancies,  illusory  or  rational,  that  ever  flitted 
around  her,  seemed  to  throng  the  avenues  of  that  unquiet 
hour. 


148  MOUNT     HOPE. 

There  was  distinguishable  among  them  the  open  brow 
and  loving  eye  of  William  Ashford ;  and  suddenly  the 
flush  that  had  suffused  her  young  cheek  at  the  sight  of  the 
loved  one,  was  succeeded  by  death-like  paleness  at  the 
hated  appearance  of  his  false-hearted  calumniator  and 
pretended  rival.  She  started  with  horror  from  the  spec 
tacle,  and  awoke.  Could  it  be  that  the  maiden's  mind  was 
still  haunted  with  the  lingering  shadows  of  sleep — or  had 
the  grave  been  robbed  of  its  victim?  For  there  by  the 
fountain,  glaring  fixedly  upon  her  with  those  cold,  scornful 
eyes,  stood  or  seemed  to  stand  the  hated  Edward  Randolph. 
The  rock  that  shaded  the  fountain  was  thickly  overgrown 
with  moss,  and  upon  this  natural  pillow  she  had  rested  her 
head  as  she  slept.  Starting  up  suddenly,  and  brushing 
away  from  her  forehead  the  luxuriant  brown  hair  that  had 
been  disarranged  by  the  sportings  of  the  breeze,  she  pressed 
her  small  hand  against  her  temple,  as  if  to  reassure  herself 
that  she  was  fully  restored  to  consciousness.  She  gazed 
at  the  emaciated  apparition  until  her  eye  quailed  from  its 
merciless  glance. 

She  would  have  screamed,  but  a  thirst  like  that  which 
attends  the  offices  of  death  choked  her  utterance.  She 
would  have  addressed  it,  but  her  lips  were  chill  and  im- 
moveable.  The  superstition  of  the  age,  which  had  never 
before  fettered  her  reason,  had  now  fastened  its  iron  fangs 
upon  it.  There  were  the  sable  curls,  each  of  which  might 
have  been  a  serpent;  there  was  the  shadowy  form,  the 
scornful  lip,  the  eye  that  seemed  to  reflect  the  fiery  malice 
of  the  prison  which  it  had  left  on  its  yet  unrevealed  errand — 
yes,  it  must  be  the  ghost  of  her  tormentor!  It  moved 
towards  her ;  but  scarcely  had  it  advanced  a  step,  when 
the  poor  victim  shrank  writhing  from  its  presence,  and 
would  have  fled,  but  her  limbs  were  palsied  as  her  lips. 


MOUNT     HOPE.  149 

It  stopped,  and  laughed  at  her  fear — an  ironical,  hollow 
laugh. 

"What  means  all  this  alarm,  maiden?  Have  I  the  look 
of  a  monster — a  devil — that  you  fly  at  my  approach?  I 
wished  but  a  word  with  you.  Speak,  Anne  :  have  I  alarm 
ed  you  ?" 

She  replied  not,  but  kept  her  eyes  bent  upon  the 
interrogator. 

"I  am  about  to  go  back  to  the  country  from  which  I 
have  been  so  long  a  voluntary  exile.  I  repeat  my  proposi 
tion,  once  proffered,  and  spurned  by  you.  Will  you  be 
mine,  and  fly  like  a  bird  to  the  lovely  nest  whither  I  will 
lead  you?  Decide,  for  I  must  away." 

"  Away !"  faltered  the  maiden :  "  Poor  spirit,  is  your  time, 
then,  so  short  in  the  upper  air?" 

"Silly,  priest-taught  girl!  have  you  to  learn  that  I  am 
alive !  The  slayer  of  kings  has  not  slain  Edward  Ran- 
dolph.  His  palsied  arm  did  indeed  steal  a  weapon  that 
belonged  to  a  better  hand,  and  leave  the  marks  of  its  imbe 
cility  in  a  flesh-cut  in  my  side.  I  own  I  have  lost  some 
blood,  and  may-be  am  a  shade  more  pale  for  the  encounter. 
But  your  heroic  defender  is  better  furnished  for  the  mockery 
of  a  judicial  murder  than  for  the  handling  of  steel.  If  he 
could  not  write  his  name,  he  could  make  his  mark.  But, 
thank  God ! — in  all  verity  I  say  it — I  am  reduced  to  no  such 
vulgar  necessity  as  to  become  a  ghost."  And  again  Ran 
dolph  laughed  bitterly. 

Anne  Willoughby  had  now  recovered  the  full  possession 
of  her  faculties,  and  answered  him  in  a  tone  as  far  removed 
from  fear  as  from  anger.  "  A  full  expression  of  my  views 
of  your  conduct,  so  unworthy  of  a  cavalier,  and  so  devoid 
of  the  sentiments  that  are  thought  to  dwell  in  the  breast  of 
a  man  of  honour,  I  have  already  given  you,  and  hoped  that 
13* 


150  MOUNT     HOPE. 

the  lesson  taught  you  by  adversity  might  have  brought  you 
the  discretion  with  which  years  have  failed  to  endow  you. 
You  call  me  young,  and  therefore  perchance  you  deem  rne 
wavering  in  principle  and  fickle  in  purpose.  But,  sir  cav 
alier,  the  surface  of  this  fountain  does  not  more  faithfully 
reflect  the  lichens  that  overhang  it,  than  does  this  face,  that 
has  known  no  falsehood,  and  until  it  met  yours  was  scarcely 
acquainted  with  sorrow,  give  back  the  resolve  that  is  deeply 
seated  in  my  bosom.  I  hate  not  with  angry  hatred,  but  I 
loathe  and  scorn  you." 

"Then,"  resumed  Randolph,  in  the  phrase  of  the  court 
of  which  he  aspired  to  be  a  principal  ornament,  "  continue 
to  wander,  fair  damsel-errant,  in  those  groves  of  Fairie- 
land.  I  go  to  merry  England — merry  England  now ;  for 
its  long  prayers  and  psalm-singing  glories,  that  you  have 
made  the  basis  of  your  faith,  are  no  more.  But,  remember, 
I  shall  return  with  the  knightly  spur  upon  my  heel,  and  if 
wild  beasts  or  dwarfs  have  not  then  devoured  my  adorable 
Una,  I  will  myself  lead  the  way  to  the  '  Bower  of  Bliss.' ?! 

"  Begone,  base  man !  The  wild  beast  does  not  prowl  in 
this  wilderness  that  should  not  be  a  welcome  substitute  for 
such  as  thou  art." 

"By  Heavens,  she  queens  it  over  me  as  if  I  were  a  suppli 
ant  for  her  favour,  and  not  her  master !  But  it  is  angelically 
done :  no  royalist  damsel  at  St.  James's  could  have  enacted 
it  better.  My  gracious  sovereign  would  kneel  and  sue  to 
this  puritan,  could  he  see  her  carry  it  so  majestically.  But 
I  have  lost  blood.  I  am  weak — and — there  may  be — there 
shall  be — do  you  hear,  Anne? — I  say  there  shall  be  a 
time " 

The  sentence  and  the  interview  was  cut  oft"  at  once  ;  for 
Anne  Willoughby  waved  her  hand  impatiently ;  and  bowing 
coldly,  as  an  offended  queen  might  dismiss  an  impertinent 


MOUNT     HOPE.  151 

courtier,  turned  proudly  from  him,  and  withdrew  behind 
the  screen  of  the  rock. 

Randolph  paused,  and  looked  at  her  beautiful  figure  and 
snow-white  neck  until  they  were  hidden  from  his  view,  and 
then  walked  with  an  irresolute,  disconcerted  step,  to  a  little 
mound  where  one  of  his  comrades  was  seated — held  a  brief 
conference  with  him — and  then  shaking  him  hastily  by  the 
hand,  bade  him  farewell.  In  a  week,  the  ship  that  awaited 
his  leisure  in  Boston  harbour,  had  weighed  anchor  for 
England. 


152  MOUNT     HOPE 


CHAPTER    XV. 

"I  must  make  a  rude  departure." — BKN  JONSON. 

THE  journey  of  Anne  Willoughby  through  the  woods, 
combined  with  the  painful  incidents  that  had  attended  it, 
hitherto  had  robbed  her  cheek  of  the  rose-hue  of  health, 
and  substituted  for  the  smile  that  had  once  played  upon  her 
lip,  betokening  a  blithe  and  lightsome  heart,  the  settled 
serenity  of  womanhood.  Nor  had  her  appearance  suffered 
any  thing  by  the  change.  She  had  gradually  awakened 
from  the  unsubstantial  dreams  that  had  been  the  compan 
ions  of  her  retired  home ;  their  air-castles  had  melted  into 
the  clear  atmosphere  of  the  sober  autumn  that  now  chilled 
the  New  England  woods,  and  shook  their  withered  leaves 
one  by  one  from  the  boughs.  True  it  is,  that  the  short 
lived  Indian-summer,  with  its  soft,  smoky  drapery  hovering 
in  the  south-west — the  aboriginal  heaven — had  still  its 
charms  for  her  eye  ;  true  it  is,  that  her  imagination  peopled 
with  inhabitants  bright  as  ever  the  hues  of  the  sunset  and 
the  tinge  of  the  morning  sky ;  but  her  character  had  taken 
the  sober,  thoughtful  tone  of  womanhood. 

Little  could  the  playmates  of  her  childhood,  who  had  so 
often  complained  of  her  waywardness  and  wild  morning 
rambles,  have  traced  in  the  lofty  step  of  the  young  lady, 
as  she  trod  the  solitudes  of  nature  in  company  with  her 
dusky  guides,  any  resemblance  to  the  frolicksome  ease 
with  which  she  had  only  a  few  years  before  left  her  foot- 


MOUNT     HOPE.  153 

prints  in  the  dew,  as  she  flew  with  well-dissembled  fright 
to  hide  herself  at  their  approach. 

Little  resemblance  would  they  have  traced  between  the 
merry  tones  and  bright  eyes  of  the  little  maiden,  and  the 
rich  voice,  the  dark,  speaking  glance  of  the  now  fully, 
developed  woman.  And  yet  there  was  a  resemblance, 
natural  and  beautiful  as  time  had  ever  kept  alive  in  the 
human  face  and  form.  The  infantine  expression  of  the 
features  was  gone,  but  the  same  delicate  shading  of  the 
forehead  with  the  wavy  brown  hair,  the  same  slender  neck, 
the  same  white,  fairy-like  hand,  bespoke  the  identity ;  and 
yet  they  had  all  been  subjected  to  the  finish  of  that  great 
artist,  Time.  She,  too,  was  conscious  of  the  change — not 
of  the  external,  but  of  that  within.  That  her  mind,  that 
her  purposes  had  unfolded  into  a  new  beauty,  she  knew 
and  felt;  but  so  far  from  inflating  her  heart  with  a  foolish 
pride,  it  gave  her  humility,  while  it  gave  her  confidence. 
A  few  months  ago,  and  she  had  shrunk  with  sensitive  pain 
from  collision  with  the  rough  world,  as  if  its  blasts  were 
too  piercing  for  sensibilities  so  delicately  harmonized. 
Then  the  very  thought  of  wandering  in  the  wilderness 
unprotected,  in  the  midst  of  faces  alien  to  every  association 
of  her  tender  nurture,  would  have  driven  her  almost  fran 
tic.  Then  the  very  recital  of  the  insulting  language  of 
Randolph  would  have  congealed  her  blood  with  a  death 
like  fear.  But  now  she  could  bear  all  these  changes  with 
a  resignation,  a  cheerfulness  that  sometimes  almost  startled 
her,  for  she  half  fancied  it  might  be  indifference.  But 
there  was  one  sentiment  that  lived  with  such  an  anxious 
presence  in  her  breast,  giving  a  keener  relish  to  her  joys 
and  a  sharper  pang  to  her  every  apprehension,  that  seemed 
to  merge  in  itself  all  the  other  attributes  of  her  nature — 
indifference,  surely,  never  cast  its  shadow  over  that  secluded 


154  MOUNT    HOPE. 

sh-rine  where  dwelt  her  heart's  secret,  shared  with  but  one! 
And  that  one — where  was  he?  Why,  she  sometimes  asked 
herself,  did  he  not  come  to  her  rescue,  and  bear  her  hence 
to  the  home  from  which  she  had  been  sundered?  The 
next  moment,  she  would  reproach  herself  with  the  thought 
that  she  had,  she  well  knew,  done  him  cruel  wrong. 

Day  after  day  passed,  and  the  immoveable  faces  of  the 
Indians,  with  their  routine  of  dull,  idle  wanderings  and 
the  other  common-places  of  existence — for  life  it  could  not 
be  called — were  scarcely  heeded,  so  lost  was  she  in  the 
thoughts  with  which  her  captivity,  otherwise  a  misfortune, 
had  endowed  her.  She  had  once  fancied  herself  capable 
of  discharging  only  the  ordinary  round  of  a  woman's 
duties ;  but  the  discovery  of  higher  powers,  that  could  meet 
and  grapple  with  danger,  was  like  a  new  mine  of  wealth, 
which,  but  for  the  accident  that  robbed  her  of  home  and 
friends,  might  have  remained  a  latent  power  for  ever  con 
cealed  in  her  bosom.  At  last,  a  thought  kindred  to  these 
reflections  burst  upon  her  mind.  "  I  have  hitherto  shown 
only  fortitude :  Have  I  developed  my  whole  nature  ?  For 
titude  is  passive.  Do  I  not  possess  that  active  property 
called  courage  ?  Dare  I  be  free  ?  I  will  reflect  upon  it, 
and  decide  to-morrow  whether  I  have  the  strength  of  pur 
pose  to  effect  my  escape.  If  I  prove  to  possess  it,  my  next 
step  shall  be  to  inquire  whether  I  have  the  invention  to 
devise  the  means." 

She  was  absorbed  in  these  reflections  until  the  sun  was 
going  down  over  the  illimitable  forest,  that  seemed  like  a 
sea  without  a  shore;  when  suddenly,  looking  upward  to 
the  brow  of  a  small  hill,  she  saw  between  herself  and  the 
sun  a  sight  that  startled  her,  though  it  seemed  in  the  uncer 
tain  light  to  be  what  her  favourite  poet  has  described,  as 
one  of  those 


MOUNT     HOPE.  155 

"  Gay  creatures  of  the  element, 

"  That  in  the  colours  of  the  rainbow  live, 

"  And  play  in  the  plighted  clouds." 

It  beckoned  to  her,  and  then  wrung  its  hands  as  if  in 
despair.  She  looked  again  more  intently,  and  saw  a  dark 
figure,  erect  and  tall,  painted  against  the  verge  of  the  sky. 
This  latter  was  obviously  an  Indian,  and  not  unknown  to 
her  own  company  ;  for  they  relaxed  their  iron  features  into 
an  expression  of  pleased  recognition  as  the  savage,  followed 
by  two  or  three  others,  led  his  pretty  prize  into  their  midst. 

Pretty  indeed  she  was,  with  bright  golden  hair  curling 
about  her  forehead,  a  plump  cheek,  embrowned  by  exposure 
to  the  sun,  and  a  dimple  in  her  chin,  that  seemed  to  laugh, 
even  now,  in  spite  of  the  tears  that  glistened  in  her  blue 
eyes.  She  was  below  the  middle  stature  of  woman,  but  of 
full,  perhaps  even  rather  more  than  full  proportions,  and 
looked  much  less  the  thing  of  a  poet's  fancy  at  a  near 
view,  than  when  she  stood  with  the  unclouded  sky  for  a 
back-ground,  and  the  faint  red  sunshine  blending  with  the 
softer  tint  of  her  hair. 

She  approached  the  place  where  the  taller  and  more 
stately  captive  was  standing ;  and  contemplating  her  with 
a  bashful  fear,  such  as  might  become  a  simple  country  girl 
when  brought  into  the  presence  of  the  May  Queen,  said, 
with  perfect  simplicity,  but  with  an  earnestness  that  brought 
into  play  every  feature,  "  Lady,  beautiful  lady !  are  you  too 
a  prisoner?" 

"I  am,  poor  child,  a  captive  like  yourself.  But  why  do 
you  weep  so  piteously,  as  if  your  heart  was  breaking  ?  Have 
the  savages  been  rough  to  one  so  young  and  innocent?" 

"  My  home — I  am  torn  from  my  home,  lady ;  I  have  been 
led  far  away,  I  cannot  tell  how  many  hundred  miles^  I 
shall  never,  never  return." 


156  MOUNT     HOPE. 

"Where  is  your  home?" 

"  In  a  pretty  valley  in  the  colony  of  Connecticut.  I  was 
by  the  river  side,  gathering  berries,  when  they  fouud  me, 
and  hurried  me  away." 

"  What  is  your  name,  maiden  ?" 

"Emily — Emily  Wilson.     I  am  an  orphan." 

"  Take  courage,"  said  the  young  lady,  gently  smoothing 
the  neglected  tresses  of  her  new  companion.  "  I  will  be  an 
elder  sister  to  thee.  Thou  and  I  will  both  yet  return  to 
our  friends.  Take  courage,  Emily ;  grief  doth  not  become 
a  young  brow  like  thine.  Let  me  see  thee  smile." 

There  was  something  so  kindly  sympathetic  in  her  tone 
and  manner  towards  the  young  stranger,  that  she  threw 
herself  at  the  feet  of  what  now  seemed  her  guardian-angel, 
and  wept  convulsively,  as  if  the  sorrows  of  months,  that 
had  been  hoarded  up  in  her  heart,  had  found  a  sweet  utter 
ance  in  that  one  joyful  flood  of  tears.  Then  rising,  and 
kissing  the  hands  of  Miss  Willoughby,  she  looked  up  in 
her  face,  and  smiled.  Every  feature  smiled  as  if  it  never 
again  could  reflect  the  image  of  grief.  But  for  the  tears 
that  still  sparkled  in  her  eyes,  and  showed  their  traces  on 
her  cheeks,  she  would  have  seemed  ignorant  from  infancy 
of  the  very  name  of  sorrow.  And  now  that  the  shadows 
were  cleared  up  from  her  face,  she  was  the  most  merry, 
blithe  little  creature  in  the  world.  It  seemed  as  if  care 
could  not  dwell  in  her  neighbourhood — her  mirth  was  so 
natural,  her  flow  of  spirits  so  sparkling  and  exhaustless, 
her  offices  were  so  kind  and  business-like,  without  the  least 
approach  to  obtrusiveness  or  familiarity.  She  seemed  to 
worship,  rather  than  love  her  fellow-captive,  as  a  superior 
being,  and  never  left  her  for  a  moment. 

In  this  way  they  journeyed  on  for  days,  softening  the 
harsh  features  of  the  wild  woods  that  were  at  once  their 


MOUNT     HOPE.  157 

prison  and  their  retreat,  with  discourse  about  familiar  objects 
of  common  interest  to  both.  Still,  Emily  Wilson  would 
insist  on  being  the  handmaid  of  the  other  young  lady,  and 
would  have  acknowledged  no  equality,  had  it  been  thrust 
upon  her — so  deeply-traced  were  the  lines  of  rank  and  gentle 
nurture  in  the  minds  of  that  stern  generation  that  inhabited 
New  England  in  the  olden  time. 

All  this  while,  the  idea  that  the  young  lady  had  enter- 
tained  of  effecting  an  escape,  gained  strength  in  her  mind, 
and  grew  into  a  fixed  purpose. 

At  length,  as  they  were  winding  one  afternoon  down  the 
bank  of  a  small  river  that  must  be,  as  she  judged,  a  trib 
utary  of  the  Connecticut,  she  made  known  her  intention  to 
Emily.  The  girl  clapped  her  hands  with  the  eagerness 
of  a  child  at  the  discovery  of  some  long-sought  object  of 
curiosity. 

"  Tell  me  in  what  way  it  can  be  done,  Mistress  Anne  ? 
I  can  fly  like  a  wood-pigeon ;  I  can  take  all  the  burden  of 
the  labour,  if  you  will  but  point  the  way,  and  direct  me 
how  I  can  be  useful  to  you." 

"Hush,  child!  you  will  alarm  the  Indians.  I  see  Tus- 
paquin  fixing  his  black,  suspicious  eyes  on  us  even  now. 
Carry  him  and  the  other  savages  their  venison,  and  get 
them  water  from  the  stream.  They  will  erect  their  lodges 
here  to-night,  I  fancy,  as  we  have  now  travelled  many 
hours  without  sleep.  Art  thou  not  weary,  Emily  ]" 

"  I  was  weary  a  moment  ago,  Mistress  Anne ;  but  what 
you  have  put  in  my  head  has  made  it  light  as  a  daisy." 

Their  supper  served,  and  their  temporary  wigwam  erect 
ed,  with  its  great  blazing  fire  in  the  centre,  the  Indians  lay 
down  to  sleep,  with  their  feet  to  the  fire,  and  the  prisoners 
in  their  midst. 

It  was  a  little  more  than  an  hour  before  day-break  when 
14 


158  MOUNT     HOPE. 

| 

Miss  Willoughby,  who  had  not  slept  since  they  entered  the 
lodge,  though  her  eyes  had  been  closed,  clasped  the  hand 
of  Emily  gently  in  her  own,  to  see  if  she  was  awake,  and 
ready  for  the  enterprise.  It  returned  no  response,  and  the 
free,  quiet  breathing  of  the  girl  showed  also  plainly  enough 
that  captivity  and  escape  were  now  alike  to  her.  The 
young  lady  dared  not  whisper  for  fear  of  awaking  the 
Indians.  She  took  one  of  the  curls  of  the  little  maiden, 
and  trailed  it  gently  over  her  cheek  and  parted  lips.  The 
lips  trembled  and  the  blue  eyes  opened  slowly.  A  smile 
that  disturbed  even  the  dimple  that  indented  her  chin,  now 
bespoke  a  clear  and  perfect  wakefulness.  Miss  Willoughby 
shook  her  head  in  token  of  silence,  and  when  the  smile  was 
repeated,  she  arose  and  looked  around  her.  The  fire 
burned  languidly,  with  now  and  then  a  fitful  blaze,  followed 
by  almost  total  darkness,  that  gave  to  the  dark  faces  and 
long  scalp-locks  of  the  sleepers  around  it  a  frightful  gleam. 
Tuspaquin  himself  lay  stretched  across  the  entrance  of  the 
wigwam.  Once  she  thought  she  saw  upon  his  features  the 
suspicious  smile  with  which  he  had  regarded  her  during 
the  interview  with  Emily  in  the  afternoon.  But  she  soon 
became  satisfied  that  he  as  well  as  the  other  savages  were 
in  a  deep,  secure  sleep ;  and  summoning  all  her  courage 
and  presence  of  mind,  just  at  the  time  when  the  flickering 
light  of  the  fire  had  once  more  gone  out  in  darkness,  she 
moved  forward,  and  stepped  over  the  breast  of  the  chief, 
and  found  herself  in  the  open  air.  She  scarcely  breathed 
until  she  took  the  hand  of  Emily  Wilson,  as  she  stepped, 
pale  but  still  smiling,  from  the  mat  that  lay  at  the  door  of 
the  cabin.  Even  then  the  yellow,  frost-besprinkled  leaves 
crisped  so  sharply  beneath  their  feet  as  they  stole  around 
the  side  of  the  lodge,  that  her  heart  beat  violently  with 
fear.  But  a  strong  autumn  blast  now  swept  past  the  wig- 


MOUNT    HOPE.  159 

warn,  flinging  the  dry  leaves  around  its  sides,  and  lulling 
its  inmates  to  a  deeper  repose, 

"  We  are  safe,  Emily !  Heaven  be  praised,  we  are  safe ! 
Now  let  us  keep  up  the  stream — up  the  stream  a  full  hour — 
and  then  cross  it ;  for  the  Indians  will  follow  our  footprints 
as  easily  as  if  they  were  a  beaten  trail." 

Emily  followed  in  silence.  They  kept  close  upon  the 
border  of  the  stream  until  it  branched  off  into  another  that 
came  in  from  the  east,  brawling  angrily  among  the  rocks 
and  loose  stones  that  fretted  its  current.  Here  the  young 
lady  stopped  to  wait  for  her  companion,  who  had  been 
unable  to  keep  pace  with  her,  but  soon  came  up,  breath 
less  and  exhausted. 

"The  stream  is  shallow  just  above,  where  the  swifter 
brook  rushes  into  it,  Emily.  We  must  cross  here.  But, 
alas,  poor  child !  you  look  ill  suited  to  grapple  with  a 
mountain-torrent.  Give  me  your  hand.  Now  we  will 
ford  it  in  very  sport."  But  the  current  was  stronger  than 
she  had  thought ;  and  Emily,  who  seemed  to  have  lost  all 
spirit  from  the  moment  that  she  stepped  over  the  body  of 
the  sleeping  chief,  placing  her  foot  upon  a  mossy  stone  that 
arose  above  the  surface,  slipped,  and  fell  into  the  water. 
Miss  Willoughby  caught  hold  of  her  hand,  and  pulled  her, 
wet  and  shivering,  to  the  bank. 

"  Courage,"  she  said ;  "  we  have  crossed  it :  now  let  us 
hurry  on.  The  sun  will  soon  come  over  the  hills,  and  dry 
your  chill  garments.  Cheer  up,  Emily ;  look  how  yonder 
flecked  clouds  give  promise  of  his  approach :  hie  thee  on." 

They  hastened  up  the  stream  with  as  much  celerity  as 
they  could  command,  but  Emily  was  pierced  with  every 
blast  of  the  November  wind  that  went  by.  The  sun  soon 
arose,  and  presented  his  broad  disc  from  behind  the  deep 
red  clouds;  but  the  softness  of  the  Indian-summer  was 


160  MOUNT    HOPE. 

gone,  arid  his  rays,  though  welcome,  had  no  longer  that 
vivifying  warmth-  which  they  had  diffused  two  weeks 
before.  There  was  upon  the  very  brink  of  the  stream  a 
high  bank,  or  shoulder,  against  which  the  spring  and 
autumn  floods  had  long  raved  in  vain,  that  presented  an 
easy  slope  toward  the  east,  and  afforded  a  pleasant  expo 
sure  to  the  sun.  It  was  also  secured  from  observation  by 
alders  and  other  bushes ;  so  that  it  seemed  to  offer  every 
inducement  for  a  hiding-place.  "Let  us  stop  here,  and 
wait  until  our  pursuers  have  given  up  the  search,"  said 
the  young  lady.  "  We  shall  only  have  to  retrace  our  steps, 
if  we  proceed  further  in  this  direction,  for  our  way  lies 
through  yonder  woods  towards  the  west." 

They  accordingly  sought  refuge  among  the  bushes,  lying 
close  to  the  earth,  so  that  it  seemed  impossible  that  they 
should  be  detected  at  a  yard 's  distance. 

As  the  elder  of  the  fugitives  had  anticipated,  the  Indians 
were  soon  seen  following  their  footsteps  up  the  river,  but 
when  they  came  to  the  point  where  they  had  crossed,  the 
savages  stopped,  and  seemed  to  waver,  uncertain  of  the 
course  that  they  had  taken.  One  of  them,  indeed,  crossed 
the  stream ;  but  as  they  had  taken  the  precaution  to  walk 
upon  the  stones  that  formed  the  border  of  its  channel  for  a 
distance  of  several  rods,  the  Indian  was  evidently  baffled  ; 
for  after  searching  for  some  time  in  vain  for  the  lost  trail, 
he  turned  back  to  join  his  companions. 

"They  have  given  us  over  for  lost,"  said  Emily.  But 
scarcely  had  she  spoken,  when  they  heard  a  splashing 
sound  in  the  water,  and  then  a  rustling  of  the  bushes  over 
their  heads.  On  looking  up,  Anne  Willoughby  perceived 
lowering  over  her  the  tall  figure  of  Tuspaquiri,  with  his 
eyes  fastened  sternly  upon  her,  and  his  mouth  expressive 


MOUNT    HOPE.  101 

of  an  implacable  ferocity,  as  if  he  knew  that  she  was  the 
sole  mover  in  the  enterprise. 

"  Come,  white  squaw,  come !  Little  pale-  face  will  fol 
low."  He  struck  her  cheek  with  the  palm  of  his  hand  as 
he  spoke,  and,  taking  her  by  the  arm,  led  her  hastily 
through  the  brook. 

14* 


162  MOUNT    HOPE. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

"Til  ride  ne'er  a  horse  in  Christendom  at  thy  bidding." 

THE  two  months  next  succeeding  the  battle  of  Bloody 
Brook  were  passed  by  the  Indians  and  their  prisoners  in 
those  irregular  wanderings  in  the  woods  that  seemed  neces 
sary  to  the  very  existence  of  the  savage.  They  made 
short  marches  of  only  a  few  miles,  and  usually  erected 
their  temporary  wigwams  either  in  or  near  a  dense  swamp, 
carrying  all  their  provisions  and  effects  with  them.  They 
seldom  stayed  more  than  two  or  three  days  in  the  same 
rendezvous.  The  captives  had  as  yet  sustained  little  bodily 
harm,  except  that  they  had  been  compelled  to  bear  heavy 
burdens  and  submit  to  the  severities  of  the  famine  which 
the  improvidence  of  the  savages  had  brought  upon  them, 
and  which  hovered  more  and  more  darkly  over  them  as 
the  approaches  of  winter  began  to  be  visible  in  the  terrible 
storms  that  swept  the  leaves  from  the  trees,  and  the  thin 
glazed  ice  that  formed  in  the  night  upon  the  borders  of 
the  lakes  and  streams. 

Ashford,  as  the  captive  of  Philip's  own  hand,  had  been  sub 
jected  to  no  indignity,  and,  though  closely  watched,  had  been 
treated  by  his  master  rather  as  a  friend  than  as  a  prisoner. 

Under  the  cabalistic  care  of  Philip's  medicine  men, 
he  was  now  thoroughly  cured  of  his  wounds;  but  the 
restraint  imposed  upon  his  limbs,  together  with  the  uncer 
tainty  in  which  his  future  was  involved,  fell  with  a  crushing 
weight  upon  his  spirit.  From  earliest  childhood  accus- 


MOUNT     HOPE.  163 

tomed  to  danger,  and  for  most  of  his  brief  and  eventful 
life  the  sport  of  war,  either  in  the  convulsed  and  troubled 
island  that  gave  him  birth,  or  upon  the  tempest-tossed  seas, 
liberty  was  to  him  more  than  life.  He  could  have  met 
death  at  any  time  with  more  courage  than  is  ordinarily 
allotted  to  man  in  the  conflict  with  that  invisible  enemy ; 
and  in  the  flushed  hour  of  battle  on  land  or  sea  he  might 
have  rushed  on  his  destruction  with  that  blind  philosophy 
which  Experience  in  her  school  of  discipline  teaches  as 
her  first  stern  lesson  to  her  children.  But  servitude,  to  a 
restless,  fiery  spirit  like  Ashford's,  was  the  most  oppressive 
of  all  burdens. 

Love,  too,  had  brought  along  with  it  a  throng  of  appre 
hensions  and  painful  conjectures.  "  These  are  wild,  troub 
lous  times,"  he  would  say  to  himself;  "  and  no  eye  can 
foresee  at  whose  heart  the  shaft  of  the  Indian  may  be  aimed, 
or  whose  dwelling  may  light  up  the  night-air  as  a  beacon 
of  his  vengeance  !  Heaven  guard  thee,  gentle  Anne,  from 
the  darkness  that  surrounds  the  fate  of  one  who,  even  now, 
mingles  perchance  with  thy  hopes  and  prayers!" — Still, 
Ashford  was  in  total  ignorance  of  her  captivity,  and  in  his 
day-dreams  still  saw  her  beneath  the  garden-bower,  or 
walking  along  the  beach  that  whitened  the  border  of  the 
"  Haunted  Lake" — haunted  indeed  to  him  with  the  thousand 
delightful  associations  that  people  the  cloud-land  of  early 
love.  Ashford  was  neither  a  poet  nor  a  scholar.  The 
realities  of  life  had  been  his  only  school-master — the  austere 
pages  of  the  world  had  been  his  book  ;  but  his  manly  char 
acter  had  blended  with  its  stronger  features  the  softer  and 
more  graceful  lineaments  that  give  to  the  domestic  and 
social  circle  their  most  endearing  charm.  With  every  gift 
of  mind  and  person  that  fascinates  the  lovelier  sex,  and  from 
early  youth  a  stranger  to  the  influence  of  European  society, 


164  MOUNT     HOPE. 

he  had  known  but  one  object  of  affection;  and  although 
that  object  was  surrounded  with  the  atmosphere  of  an 
imagination  that  had  been  quickened  into  growth  by  the 
warmth  of  a  tropical  sun,  still  his  imagination  seemed  less 
a  captive  than  his  heart. 

But  in  the  face  of  the  uncertainty  that  settled  over  his 
path,  and  notwithstanding  the  throbbing  of  his  heart  at  the 
thought  of  Anne  Willoughby,  exposed  to  the  accidents  that 
beset  a  thinly  populated  provincial  town,  in  such  a  war  of 
extermination  as  now  raged  throughout  the  colonies,  Ash- 
ford 's  buoyant  mind  was  not  without  some  objects  of  inter 
est,  and  even  of  amazement. 

The  mode  of  life  led  by  the  Indians — their  turbulent, 
vindictive  temper — their  child-like  credulity — the  tyran 
nical  superstition  that  reigned  with  such  absolute  dominion 
over  them — their  total  neglect  of  many  of  the  decencies 
that  are  regarded  as  indispensable  to  the  existence  of  civil 
ized  life,  contrasted  so  quaintly  with  their  slavish  observ 
ance  of  the  minutest  points  of  patriarchal  etiquette — all 
afforded  him  abundant  topics  for  observation. 

Dame  Doolittle  and  Cornelius,  who  had  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  Tyasque,  and  who  bore  little  of  the  marks  of 
having  occupied  a  place  in  life  that  entitled  them  to  much 
consideration,  were  treated  as  menials  scarcely  fit  to  do  the 
humblest  offices. 

They  had  spent  several  days  in  the  close  neighbourhood 
of  the  Connecticut,  engaged  in  maturing  their  plans  for  the 
further  prosecution  of  the  campaign  that  now  unfolded  its 
wide  map  to  the  view  of  Philip  and  his  captains. 

At  length,  on  a  bright,  frosty  morning,  as  the  Indians 
were  encamped  on  the  western  bank  of  the  river,  Philip 
was  suddenly  called  away  with  Anawan,  who  had  already 
sufficiently  recovered  his  strength  to  accompany  his  master, 


MOUNT     HOPE.  165 

to  some  remote  district,  and  upon  some  errand  too  grave  to 
be  communicated  to  the  other  chieftains. 

The  captives  were  committed  to  the  care  of  the  implaca 
ble  Tyasque,  with  the  exception  of  Ashford,  who  was  placed 
in  the  hands  of  Tatoson,  who  had  not  long  before  been  his 
prisoner.  Ashford  had  therefore  no  apprehension  of  dan 
ger,  for  the  old  chief  seemed  to  regard  him  rather  as  a  son 
than  as  a  prisoner.  He  even  made  him  the  keeper  of  his 
secrets,  and  with  an  ominous  shake  of  the  head,  while  he 
pointed  first  at  Tyasque,  and  then  at  Dame  Doolittle  and 
Cornelius,  communicated  to  him  that  the  absence  of  the 
great  sachem  would  bring  harm  to  the  captives  who  were 
under  his  peculiar  charge. 

It  turned  out  as  Tatoson  had  prophesied ;  for  the  sun  had 
scarcely  risen  high  enough  to  melt  the  frost  from  the  leaves, 
when  Tyasque  summoned  the  warriors  to  council.  Several 
hundred  were  soon  assembled.  Dame  Doolittle  and  the 
unfortunate  Dutchman  were  placed  in  their  midst,  and  their 
cruel  master  then  called  on  the  chiefs  present  to  suggest 
what  appeared  to  each  one  the  most  suitable  mode  of  tor 
ture.  Long  and  loud  were  the  speeches  of  the  warriors, 
and  many  were  the  passages  of  angry  debate  that  fell  upon 
the  ears  of  the  captives  in  an  unknown  tongue,  that  con 
veyed  to  them  no  meaning,  except  in  the  dread  accompani 
ment  of  look  and  gesture  that  marked  them  as  the  objects 
of  that  demoniac  sport  which  is  the  daintiest  morsel  of  an 
Indian's  revenge.  Seeing  a  woman  in  the  ring,  the  squaws 
and  sannups  crowded  densely  around  them,  mingling  with 
the  warriors,  and  pointing  their  fingers  scornfully  at  the  two 
victims. 

It  was  the  lot  of  Cornelius  to  commence  the  entertain 
ment.  There  stretched  along  the  river  a  level  plain  for 
the  distance  of  a  quarter  of  a  mile ;  and  quick  as  thought, 


166  MOUNT     HOPE. 

upon  the  breaking  up  of  the  council,  the  savages  of  both 
sexes  and  all  ages  formed  themselves  in  two  parallel  lines, 
with  sufficient  space  intervening  to  give  them  easy  access 
to  the  Dutchman  with  their  weapons,  which  were  as  diverse 
and  unequal  in  their  capacity  of  inflicting  injury  as  were 
the  disposition  and  power  of  the  promiscuous  tormentors 
who  were  to  wield  them. 

Ashford,  who  was  compelled  to  be  an  eye-witness  of  the 
spectacle,  could  hardly  suppress  a  smile  at  the  utter  dismay 
of  the  poor  pirate,  as  the  Indian  who  had  him  in  charge 
now  pointed  down  the  vista  of  the  arena,  and  signified  to 
him — for  he  could  speak  no  English — to  run. 

Cornelius  looked  in  blank,  stupid  amazement,  first  at  the 
savage,  and  then  at  the  two  formidable  and  almost  inter 
minable  ranks  of  Indians  that  stretched  out  before  his  eye. 
His  look  evinced  terror — horror ;  but  no  sign  of  compre 
hension  of  the  part  that  he  was  expected  to  play  in  the 
unintelligible  game.  At  length,  Tyasque  stepped  up  haugh 
tily  to  him ;  and  pointing  in  the  same  direction  as  the  other 
Indian  had  done,  said,  abruptly,  "Run,  Englishman — run !" 

"  Goot  Master  Ashford,"  said  Cornelius,  catching  eagerly 
at  the  word  Englishman,  that  seemed  the  only  oasis  in  the 
desert  before  him,  "I  find  it  to  pe  te  pleasure  of  the  goot 
salvage  Tyasque,  tat  you  poot  into  use  your  long  legs  and 
slim  pody,  and  run." 

"Run!"  said  the  chief,  still  keeping  his  penetrating  eye 
upon  Cornelius. 

"  Goot  Shief  Tyasque,  I  tell  you  vat  is  true :  I  pe  just 
no  Englishman  at  all,  put  only  von  poor  Tuchman ;  and, 
pesides,  I  am  able,  if  I  could  put  stay  out  of  te  hands  of  te 
Pilgrim  Faders,  to  do  te  great  and  goot  Injin  no  harm  at  all." 

"Run!"  screamed  an  elfish  savage  in  miniature,  striking 
the  renegade  in  the  face  with  his  tiny  bow-string,  while  in 


MOUNT     HOPE.  167 

the  very  midst  of  forswearing  his  allegiance  to  his  former 
masters. 

"Tere  is  von  more  reason,  goot  Tyasque,"  said  Cor- 
lius,  doggedly — still  remaining  apparently  as  immoveable 
as  if  his  feet  were  imbedded  in  the  soil — "te  fact  is,  I  pe 
so  svelled  vid  fat  and  blubber  tat  I  can  run  noting  at  all." 
And  in  verification  of  what  he  said,  he  drew  in  his  breath, 
and  threw  forward  his  enormous  rotundity  of  person,  until 
it  came  in  near  proximity  to  the  dignitary  whose  mercy  he 
was  supplicating.  A  hiss,  as  if  all  the  adders  of  the  conti 
nent  had  concentrated  their  breath  into  one  angry  note  of 
alarm,  the  prelude  of  their  venomous  revenge,  and  piercing 
his  ear  with  a  premonition  that  could  admit  of  but  one 
interpretation,  followed  by  the  repeated,  ominous  word 
"Run!"  turned  the  scale  of  his  resolution.  He  sighed, 
looked  once  more  at  his  huge  trunk  and  short  duck-legs, 
then  at  the  formidable  array  of  his  enemies,  and  then  gath 
ering  up  all  his  energies  in  one  mighty  effort,  started  with 
such  speed  as  he  could  command.  A  shout,  mingling  in 
one  all  the  voices  of  the  savages,  was  the  signal  for  the 
commencement  of  the  sport.  It  was  obviously  the  intention 
of  the  Indians  to  inflict  only  a  temporary  injury  upon  him; 
for  the  warriors  dealt  only  blows  with  their  fists,  or  with  the 
unstrung  bow,  leaving  it  to  the  squaws  and  the  smaller 
representatives  of  Hobbomocko  to  exert  all  their  strength, 
which  they  did  right  heartily — spitting  in  his  face,  pricking 
his  body  with  sharp  sticks,  clinging  to  his  legs  and  ample 
nether  garments,  and  pulling  out  his  coarse  grizzled  hair 
by  handfuls.  But  the  race  was  soon  ended ;  for  before  he 
had  advanced  a  dozen  rods,  either  from  lack  of  breath,  or 
from  the  weight  of  the  encumbrances  that  had  fastened 
themselves  to  his  limbs,  the  luckless  runner  rolled  upon 
the  ground.  He  was  immediately  taken  up  by  as  many  of 


168  MOUNT     HOPE. 

his  persecutors  as  could  find  a  place  to  lay  hold  of  his  surface, 
and  borne  from  the  field  of  his  short-lived  achievement — • 
a  bleeding,  ghastly  object,  as  even  a  savage  could  desire  to 
look  on. 

Scarcely  had  this  cruel  farce  been  brought  to  a  close, 
when  the  savages  again  formed  as  before,  only  parting  at 
the  place  occupied  by  the  chiefs  to  make  room  for  a  new 
comer,  in  the  shape  of  Mrs.  Doolittle's  white  steed,  as  he 
came  reluctantly  into  their  midst,  urged  along  by  three  or 
four  Indian  boys,  who  tugged  at  his  bridle  lustily,  plying 
him  with  such  weapons  as  were  best  adapted  to  enforce 
their  authority,  and  seconded  by  the  zeal  of  more  haggish- 
looking  squaws  pressing  upon  his  flank  and  rear  than  could 
bring  their  sticks  and  clubs  to  bear  upon  him.  They  came 
to  a  stand  near  where  Dame  Doolittle  was  stationed ;  and 
before  she  was  fully  aware  of  their  intentions,  a  tall,  athletic 
Indian  had  seized  her,  and  mounted  her  safely  on  Davie's 
back.  Tyasque,  looking  her  full  in  the  face,  with  as  much 
gravity  as  one  of  the  old  Vikings  would  have  assumed 
in  pronouncing  doom  upon  a  deserter  from  his  ship,  and 
pointing  down  the  grim  avenue  walled  in  by  the  hetero 
geneous  mass  of  her  persecutors,  said,  abruptly,  "Ride!" 

The  martyr  of  the  moment  was  armed  with  the  same 
fragment  of  hickory  that  had  never  left  her  hand  since  the 
morning  of  the  fight  of  Bloody  Brook,  and  Davie  had  so 
vivid  a  recollection  of  its  hard  knots  and  ponderous  weight, 
that  it  is  most  likely  he  would  have  needed  little  persuasion 
to  lead  off  the  dance  at  once.  But  his  mistress  had  no 
such  intention.  On  the  other  hand,  by  a  singular  dexterity 
of  horsemanship — the  combined  result  of  a  sudden  twist  of 
the  bit  and  a  blow  upon  the  flank  of  the  beast  with  the 
knotted  stick — Davie  wheeled  with  the  celerity  of  a  sea- 
bird,  and  brought  his  head  with  such  force  against  the 


MOUNT     HOPE.  169 

breast  of  the  savage  who  had  placed  his  mistress  in  the 
saddle,  that  he  dropped  to  the  earth  as  suddenly  as  if  his 
skull  had  been  cleft  by  a  hatchet.  Then,  facing  about,  she 
made  a  similar  pass  at  Tyasque,  who  only  escaped  a  like 
overthrow  by  darting  aside  and  suffering  her  to  pass  by 
him.  He  then  sprang  toward  her  furiously ;  but  whether 
with  the  design  of  pulling  her  to  the  ground,  or  of  turning 
her  horse's  head  in  the  direction  which  he  designed  he 
should  travel,  was  never  made  clear ;  for  a  blow  from  the 
hickory  bough,  dealt  with  something  more  than  a  woman's 
energy,  met  him  as  he  advanced,  and,  leaving  its  mark 
transversely  across  the  entire  breadth  of  his  cheek  and  chin, 
sent  him  staggering  a  distance  of  several  feet.  "  Get  back, 
ye  black  varmint !"  shouted,  or  rather  screamed,  the  enraged 
dame — her  wrinkled  features  blackened  with  all  the  hatred 
that  the  last  twenty  years  of  her  life  had  accumulated 
against  the  Indians,  while  her  formidable  weapon  made 
fearful  circles  in  the  air — "  Get  back,  ye  copper-skinned, 
long-haired  scullions,  or  I  '11  be  the  death  o'  ye  all !  Ride  ? 
Ride,  in  troth  will  I,  over  the  carcases  of  every  squaw's 
son.  Ye  are  not  to  think,  because  ye  can  play  your  tan 
trums  and  cantrips  with  my  sister's  child,  that  ye  can  do 
the  like  to  Dorothy  Doolittle !  There  is  a  difference  between 
the  aunt  and  the  niece,  I  trow.  To  be  captivated  by  such 
vile  reptiles  is  doleful  enough,  though  a  decent  captivity 
might  be  borne.  But  such  infernal  capers  and  devilish 
doings  (may  the  Lord  forgive  me !)  are  not  to  be  exercised 
on  a  woman  of  spirit.  I'll  ride  ye  down,  squaw  and  Injin, 
to  the  earth  e'en  now."  And  flourishing  her  stick  about 
the  head  and  ears  of  Davie,  she  rode  headlong  into  the  midst 
of  her  tormentors.  The  momentum  of  Davie,  as  well  as 
the  more  than  aboriginal  ferocity  of  the  good  Dame's  fea 
tures,  that  seemed  to  be  instinct  with  a  rage  almost  super. 

15 


170  MOUNT     HOPE. 

natural,  drove  the  squaws  and  papooses  from  her  with  a 
shrill  scream.  At  the  same  instant  Davie,  inspired  for  the 
moment  with  the  valour  of  his  mistress,  left  the  impress  of 
his  iron  shoe  in  the  forehead  of  a  young  sannup,  and  laid 
him  sprawling  on  the  green  turf.  "  Ride  ?"  continued  the 
Amazon ;  "  Dorothea  Doolittle  will  not  ride,  I  trow,  at  your 
bidding."  And  she  was  as  good  as  her  word  ;  for  neither 
the  yells  of  the  crowd,  nor  the  commands  of  the  warriors, 
who  had  now  seized  hold  of  both  horse  and  rider,  could 
shake  her  from  her  purpose. 

The  chiefs  consulted  a  minute,  and  then  bound  her  fast 
to  the  back  of  Davie  with  cords  and  twisted  belts  of  deer 
skin  ;  and  dragging  both  dame  and  horse,  who  now  might 
be  said  to  constitute  one  animal,  to  a  little  distance,  tied  the 
neck  of  the  charger  to  the  trunk  of  a  tree.  Six  warriors 
then  took  their  tomahawks,  and,  retiring  to  a  point  far 
enough  removed  from  their  target,  faced  about,  when  one 
of  them  poised  his  weapon  in  the  air,  and  cast  it  with  a 
deadly  force  at  the  head  of  the  refractory  captive.  But, 
lithe  as  a  serpent,  she  threw  herself  obliquely  backward  upon 
Davie's  flank,  and  pointed  mockingly  at  the  hatchet  as  it 
buried  its  head  in  the  sward. 

Ashford  now  remonstrated  with  Tatoson.  "  This  is 
murder,"  said  he;  "savage  murder.  Cannot  great  chief 
stop  it?" 

Tatoson  pointed  to  Tyasque,  and  shook  his  head. 

But  Dame  Doolittle  had  heard  the  remonstrance,  and 
called  out  to  Ashford,  "Murder? — thou  art  right,  young 
gentleman ;  it  is  salvage,  mortal  murder.  Thy  murder,  as 
well  as  their's !  If  thou  hadst  but  as  much  valour  in  thee 
as  would  slay  a  wren,  thou  would'st  stop  it  thyself." 

"My  arms  are  pinioned  behind  me,  good  woman,"  said 
Ashford;  "but  shake  your  medicine-bag  in  their  faces, 
and  may-be  they  will  desist." 


MOUNT     HOPE.  171 

The  dame  took  the  hint  on  the  instant.  She  untied  the 
provision-bag  that  hung  about  her  neck,  and  had  been  the 
repository  of  all  the  bear's-meat  and  parched  corn  with 
which  she  had  regaled  herself  for  weeks,  and  flourished  it 
high  in  the  air.  "Medicine!  medicine!"  shrieked  Mrs. 
Doolittle,  in  a  voice  that  had  more  of  despair  than  faith  in  it. 

The  superstition  of  the  savages  completed  her  triumph ; 
for  after  a  moment's  consultation  with  his  warriors,  in  which 
Tatoson  joined,  Tyasque  proclaimed  that  "she  was  the 
squaw  medicine  of  the  great  fire  sachem,  Hobbomocko ;"  and 
commanded  that  she  should  be  set  free  from  her  confine 
ment,  and  led  to  the  medicine  lodge. 

From  that  day  forth,  until  her  final  release  from  captivity, 
the  authority  of  Mrs.  Dorothy  Doolittle  was  equal  in  the 
tribe  to  that  of  the  chief  paniese  himself. 


172  MOUNT     HOPE. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

-•'.:  *V: 

"Mine  enemy  is  my  deliverer." 

A  FEW  days  after  the  triumph  of  Mrs.  Doolittle  in  the 
Indian  camp,  Tatoson  had  been  summoned  by  a  messenger 
from  Philip  to  take  leave  of  his  prisoner,  for  the  exer 
cise  of  his  prowess  in  some  other  part  of  the  field.  He 
departed,  not  without  apprehension  of  danger  to  the  young 
pale-face,  and  even  warned  him  with  great  earnestness 
not  to  awaken  the  resentment  of  Tyasque,  who,  he  said, 
of  all  Philip's  chief  sachems,  was  the  most  cruel  and 
tyrannical.  Ashford  soon  saw  that  he  had  fallen  into 
hands  less  likely  to  respect  his  claims  to  kind  treatment; 
for  the  old  chief  had  scarcely  left  the  encampment,  when  he 
was  taken  into  the  custody  of  two  powerful  warriors,  who 
drew  the  ligatures  with  which  he  was  bound  so  tightly 
about  his  arms,  that  they  soon  became  so  swollen  as  to  give 
him  excruciating  pain.  The  pain,  however,  was  of  short 
duration ;  for  that  palsied  numbness  consequent  upon  the 
want  of  circulation  of  blood,  soon  succeeded.  The  next 
day  they  marched  up  the  Connecticut,  never  departing 
more  than  a  mile  from  the  river,  and  for  the  most  part 
keeping  close  upon  its  bank.  About  ten  o'clock,  they  heard 
the  stunning  sound  of  a  cataract ;  and  Ashford  soon  saw, 
as  they  neared  the  high,  rocky  bank,  that  they  had  passed 
the  precipice  where  the  beautiful  river  took  its  fearful  leap 
into  a  gulf  that  seemed  beyond  the  power  of  the  line  and 
plummet  to  fathom. 


MOUNT     HOPE.  173 

**'  '  '    V%  *  •  -    '  '•*  ' 

The  channel  above  the  fall  into  which  this  vast  volume 
of  waters  was  compressed,  preparatory  to  its  final  plunge, 
was  so  narrow,  that  he  fancied,  from  the  ledgy  elevation 
from  which  he  viewed  it,  that  he  could  have  almost  stepped 
across  the  convulsed  and  whitened  waters,  as  they  rushed 
along  with  the  speed  of  an  arrow. 

All  the  magnificence  of  rock  and  plumed  ever-green 
that  form  the  outworks  of  nature's  wildest  and  most  awe- 
inspiring  retreats,  frowned  over  that  current,  so  immeasur 
ably  deep,  so  irresistibly  strong  with  accumulated  forces, 
the  tribute  of  mountains  that  hide  their  heads  in  the  clouds, 
or  lakes  that  lie  cool  and  limpid  at  their  feet. 

Whiling  away  the  time  with  his  own  bitter  thoughts,  ^ 
soon  perceived  that  they  had  passed  the  narrow  space  in 
the  channel,  and  had  arrived  at  a  wide  pool  where  the  river 
lay  spread  out  before  them,  and  that  he  was  himself  stand 
ing  just  opposite  the  line  where  the  waters  began  to  whiten 
with  the  strength  of  the  current  that  quickened  as  it  de 
scended,  until  it  formed  the  rapids  just  described  ;  and  even 
above  this  line,  the  water  was  whirled  around  in  circles 
that  indicated  the  power  of  the  under-current,  and  the  pres 
ence  of  vast  masses  of  rock  that  lay  beneath  the  treacherous 
surface. 

It  was  now  noon,  and  the  party  halted,  apparently  for 
some  purpose  that  involved  some  permanent  stay ;  for  he 
soon  saw  that  they  were  gathering  fuel  in  large  quantities 
around  the  trunk  of  a  small  tree,  as  he  supposed  for  the 
purpose  of  a  religious  ceremonial.  Their  wigwams  were 
also  built  in  a  semi-circle  near  the  tree. 

Tyasque  now  called  a  council,  in  which  he  was  the  first 

to  harangue  the  savages.     All  this  was  so  much  after  their 

usual  manner,  that  Ashford  looked  on  as  an  idle  spectator, 

until  he  observed  the  orator  pointing  with  his  hand  men- 

15* 


174  MOUNT     HOPE. 

acingly  at  him,  and  noticed  that  the  eyes  of  the  Indians 
were  instantly  directed  toward  him.  This  gesture,  and 
their  vindictive  looks,  awakened  in  his  mind  suspicions  that 
he  was  the  sole  object  of  the  speech,  as  well  as  of  the  sacri 
fice  which  he  doubted  not  would  soon  wreathe  its  flames 
around  him.  A  shudder  passed  over  his  frame  at  the  sight 
of  this  mock  exhibition  of  a  judicial  trial,  where  the  awful 
preparations  for  the  execution  stared  the  triers  themselves 
in  the  face,  as  if  to  forestall  the  doom  before  it  had  passed 
their  lips.  He  knew  enough,  however,  of  the  character, 
istics  of  his  judges  to  feel  assured  that  any  exhibition  of 
alarm  on  his  part  would  but  bring  on  him  their  derision, 
without  taking  away  any  thing  from  the  rigours  of  the  sen 
tence.  He  resolved,  therefore,  to  command  every  muscle 
of  his  face — to  meet  every  indignity  heaped  upon  him  with 
the  stoical  coldness  which  he  was  aware  was  at  once  the 
religion  and  philosophy  of  the  Indian  warrior. 

Little  time  was  allowed  him  for  deliberation  before  the 
two  warriors  who  had  attended  him  since  the  departure  of 
Tatoson  came  up  to  him,  laid  hold  of  his  person,  and  drag 
ged  him  into  the  midst  of  the  council.  As  he  was  hurried 
along,  he  observed  that  several  of  the  Indians  were  arrang 
ing  the  fuel  around  the  tree  in  that  fatal  circle  from  which 
so  few  that  pass  it  ever  escape,  until  their  spirits  exhale  in 
the  flames  that  reduce  the  blackened  remains  to  ashes. 
But  it  was  only  a  momentary  glance  that  he  bestowed  on 
it,  as  he  turned  to  confront  the  bloody-minded  chief,  who, 
with  eyes  that  seemed  to  prefigure  in  their  intense  glare 
the  consuming  malice  of  the  fire  that  was  not  yet  kindled, 
said,  in  a  sneering,  half-ironical  tone,  "Does  the  pale 
captain  know  that  he  must  feed  the  god  of  fire  ?" 

"I  am  ready  to  die,  chief,"  replied  Ashford,  calmly. 

"It  is  long  before  the  god  will  finish  his  feast,  pale  face: 


MOUNT     HOPE.  175 

he  loves  Umpame  blood ;  it  is  sweet  to  his  lips ;  he  will 
drink  it  slow." 

"I  can  wait  till  he  has  made  his  meal,"  said  Ashford: 
"I  laugh  at  your  god  ;  I  laugh  at  Tyasque.  He  is  a  fawn. 
He  has  swift  feet.  Women  leave  their  mark  in  the  chief's 
face." 

This  was  more  than  the  torturer  could  bear.  He  sprang 
against  the  body  of  the  Englishman  with  such  force  that 
he  fell  to  the  ground,  unable  as  he  was  to  support  him 
self  with  his  arms  tied  behind  him.  The  chief  raised 
him  by  taking  hold  of  both  his  swollen  hands,  and  lifting 
him  slowly,  so  as  to  prolong  the  keen  anguish  that  the 
operation  inflicted.  He  then  looked  scrutinizingly  into  his 
face  for  the  traces  of  suffering.  But  the  lip  did  not  quiver, 
the  veins  did  not  swell  upon  the  temple,  nor  did  the  perspi 
ration  start  upon  the  forehead.  The  privateer  even  smiled, 
as  if  the  sensation  was  grateful  to  his  nerves.  Tyasque 
glanced  first  at  the  calm  face  and  then  at  the  crowd  that 
looked  on  in  astonishment. 

"  Pale-skin  has  no  blood  in  his  body.  Let  chief  see," 
said  Tyasque.  He  drew  a  long  steel  knife  from  his  girdle 
as  he  spoke,  and  thrust  it  into  the  muscular  part  of  Ash- 
ford's  arm,  a  little  above  the  elbow,  and  below  the  ligature. 
The  knife  must  have  severed  a  vein,  for  the  blood  spouted 
in  a  lively  jet  into  the  face  of  the  chief  as  he  withdrew  it. 

"The  great  Tyasque  is  weak,"  said  Ashford ;  "his  arm 
is  weak,  and  his  knife  is  dull.  Let  him  call  some  other 
warrior." 

The  enraged  savage  made  no  reply,  but  pointed  to  the 
two  tall  Indians,  and  then  to  the  already. finished  pyre. 
They  seized  the  devoted  man  each  by  the  shoulder,  and 
hurried  him  along,  lifting  him  with  no  gentle  application 
of  force  over  the  piled  up  fuel  that  encircled  the  death-tree ; 


176  MOUNT     HOPE. 

they  then  bound  him  fast,  his  back  against  the  tree  and  his 
face  toward  the  river.  The  priest  who  was  to  do  the  final 
office  of  executioner,  then  walked  slowly  from  a  wigwam, 
bringing  a  small  lighted  coil  of  birch-bark  in  his  hand, 
which  he  carried  with  great  caution,  lest  the  breeze  that 
now  blew  freshly  from  the  water  should  extinguish  it. 
With  a  suppressed,  eager  curiosity,  the  long-haired  specta 
tors,  who  might  have  represented  the  Druids  of  ancient 
Britain  in  more  than  one  feature  of  resemblance,  crowded 
around  the  spot  in  several  circles,  the  warriors  nearest  the 
tree.  A  dance  was  to  be  performed  around  the  fire,  accord 
ing  to  the  Indian  custom,  while  the  execution  was  going 
forward.  The  priest  had  scarcely  dropped  upon  his  knee 
to  apply  the  half-consumed  coil  to  the  structure,  when  a 
cry,  shrill  and  piercing  as  it  had  been  the  utterance  of  a 
wo  too  mighty  for  the  heart  to  bear — a  female  cry — arrested 
his  hands,  and  turned  every  eye  in  the  direction  whence  it 
proceeded. 

Not  far  from  the  place  where  the  council  had  assembled 
was  a  small  party  of  Indians  advancing  towards  them,  and 
in  front  of  the  savages  a  young  female,  hurrying  forward 
with  such  speed  that  she  seemed  to  fly  rather  than  run 
toward  the  fatal  spot.  The  astonished  Indians  made  way 
for  her  to  pass  into  the  inner  ring ;  and  before  the  priest, 
who  had  been  so  unexpectedly  surprised  at  his  rite,  could 
arrest  her  progress,  she  had  climbed  over  the  high  barrier 
of  wood  that  had  been  built  up  as  if  to  shut  out  time  from 
eternity,  and  drawing  a  small  dagger  from  the  silver  scab- 
bard  that  had  been  artfully  concealed  in  her  dress,  passed 
its  keen  edge  through  the  thongs  that  bound  Ashford  to  the 
stake,  severing  them  with  such  dexterity  that  the  bark  of 
the  tree  was  cleft  as  if  a  lightning  flash  had  shot  down  its 
surface  to  the  ground.  She  was  the  first  to  speak : 


MOUNT     HOPE.  177 

"Fly,  William  Ashford !  fly,  for  the  love  of  Heaven! 
They  will  not  harm  a  woman :  leave  me  to  the  care  of  the 
God  who  has  always  befriended  me.  You  have  not  a 
moment  to  lose.  But  no:  it  is  in  vain;  you  bleed:  you 
have  already  felt  the  stroke  that  hath  slain  both  you  and 
me."  She  fell  at  his  feet,  as  if  she  had  indeed  received 
the  point  of  the  knife  in  her  own  bosom. 

Stunned  by  the  suddenness  of  the  interference  that 
seemed  to  call  back  his  spirit  from  the  other  world,  Ash- 
ford  stood  an  instant  as  if  he  had  just  been  awakened  from 
a  troubled  dream.  But  it  was  indeed  a  reality,  more 
threatening  and  fearful  at  that  moment  than  a  thousand 
deaths.  The  idol  of  his  breast  was  in  the  hands  of  the 
same  remorseless  men  who  had  doomed  him  to  perish  in 
the  flames  for  their  mere  diversion ;  at  best,  for  the  grati 
fication  of  a  revenge  that  was  answerable  to  no  law  and 
subjected  to  no  limit.  She  had  stood,  though  but  for  a 
moment,  between  him  and  the  element  that  was  to  consume 
him.  And  would  they  spare  even  her  life  ?  He  stooped, 
and  raised  her  from  the  earth.  Her  head  fell  upon  his 
breast  lifelessly,  and  her  cheek,  except  where  the  warm 
blood  that  flowed  from  his  own  wound  had  besprinkled  it, 
was  of  a  death-like  paleness. 

"The  spirit  has  left  its  crushed  and  ruined  habitation," 
said  Ashford:  "those  eyes  have  no  light;  those  lips  betray 
no  smile.  Death  shall  be  more  welcome  to  me  now  than 
was  ever  sleep  after  toil." 

He  felt  himself  grasped,  as  if  in  a  vice,  as  he  spoke,  and 
saw  the  brawny  hand  of  Tyasque  as  he  disengaged  the 
maiden  from  his  arms,  and  threw  her  upon  the  earth  with 
a  ferocity  that  seemed  designed  to  put  beyond  doubt  what 
her  mental  agony  appeared  to  have  rendered  but  too  certain. 
The  old  savage  smiled  grimly  at  the  marks  of  anguish  that 


178  MOUNT     HOPE. 

were  now  so  visible  in  the  features  of  one  who  had  so  long 
foiled  his  ingenious  attempts  to  call  forth  some  expression 
of  pain,  as  he  drew  with  a  ten-fold  vigour  the  knots  of 
the  cords  and  withes  that  secured  the  captive  to  the  tree. 
When  he  had  completed  the  task,  he  looked  first  at  the 
young  and  beautiful  figure  that  lay  motionless  at  his  feet, 
and  then  in  the  face  of  her  lover. 

"  Pale  squaw  not  yet  dead :  will  breathe  and  smile  on 
white  captain  before  he  flies  away  in  smoke.  See!" 

It  was  indeed  true.  She  opened  her  eyes  slowly  as  he 
spoke ;  but  before  she  could  extricate  her  reason  from  the 
maze  in  which  the  horrors  of  the  scene  had  involved  it, 
Tuspaquin  had  taken  her  up,  and  carried  her  without  the 
enclosure.  While  she  was  gradually  returning  to  con 
sciousness,  Tuspaquin  addressed  Tyasque  in  language  that 
may  be  translated  as  follows : 

"  The  chief  of  the  quiver  came  from  the  south  through 
the  woods  with  this  little  Umpame  girl  who  now  sits  by  the 
side  of  the  white  squaw  with  the  tears  in  eyes  that  are  blue 
as  the  sky  of  the  south-west.  The  chief  met  a  Nipmuck 
sagamore  with  the  white  squaw,  going  to  seek  Philip. 
Tuspaquin  took  her  into  his  tent.  She  sat  by  the  blaze  of 
his  fire.  In  the  night  she  led  away  the  child  from  the 
Wampanoags  into  the  woods.  Tuspaquin  bounded  across 
the  brook  like  the  wolf,  and  found  them  lying  side  by  side 
among  the  bushes.  He  brought  them  to  the  great  Tyasque. 
He  seeks  for  revenge.  He  has  spoken." 

"Chief,"  said  Tyasque,  "our  warriors  sing  a  song  of  a 
great  squaw-sachem  who  went  in  her  canoe  down  the  white 
foam  of  the  river,  where  the  rocks  are  so  close  on  either 
side  that  the  panther  can  spring  across  the  mist,  and  arrived 
safely  in  the  land  of  the  good  Krichtan.  The  pale  squaw 
with  the  dark  eye  shall  follow  her  to  the  spirit-lake.  It  is 
good.  I  have  spoken." 


MOUNT    HOPE.  179 

We  have  said  that  the  river  at  the  place  where  the 
council  was  held  was  wide,  and,  though  not  chafed  into 
foam  as  below,  was  impelled  by  a  strong  current.  It  was 
visible  from  the  place  where  Ashford  stood  for  nearly  a 
mile,  until  it  was  lost  behind  the  ever-greens  that  crowned 
the  hills  that  were  reflected  in  its  bosom. 

Unable  to  turn  his  head,  Ashford  soon  saw  the  young 
lady  carried  swiftly  by  him  in  the  arms  of  an  Indian,  who, 
as  he  reached  the  brink  of  the  river,  was  joined  by  several 
others,  two  of  whom  had  already  lifted  out  of  the  water  a 
canoe  of  white  birchen-bark,  and  now  assisted  in  fastening 
the  maiden  to  its  slight  frame-work.  They  then  embarked 
with  her,  turned  the  prow  up  the  stream,  and  paddled  off 
from  the  shore. 

The  little  boat  trembled  as  it  passed  athwart  the  whirling 
eddies  that  lay  in  its  course ;  but  kept  on  its  track  with  a 
steady  resistance  to  the  current,  that  bespoke  the  skill  and 
strength  of  those  who  impelled  it.  Point  after  point  in  the 
windings  of  the  wayward  channel  was  passed  by.  Image 
after  image  of  oak  or  pine  that  lay  sleeping  on  the  polished 
mirror  was  broken  into  fragments  by  the  stroke  of  the  pad 
dles  ;  but  still  the  little  boat  kept  steadily  on.  A  wild  bee, 
homeward  bound  to  her  forest-tree,  could  not  have  trusted 
to  her  instinct  with  the  certainty  of  arriving  at  her  destina 
tion  by  a  more  direct  line  than  that  along  which  it  passed, 
making  directly  for  a  rock  that  rose  above  the  surface  of 
the  water  about  midway  in  the  stream. 

Ashford  stood  bound  and  motionless  watching  its  progress, 
without  even  once  turning  his  eyes  from  the  object  so  long 
and  so  fondly  loved,  until  the  gradually  diminishing  figure 
that  occupied  the  centre  of  the  canoe,  and  was  visible  be 
tween  the  shoulders  of  the  Indians,  became  a  speck  barely 
distinguishable  from  a  diamond  water-drop  in  the  distance. 


180  MOUNT     HOPE. 

Ashford's  mind,  now  fully  collected,  took  in  at  one  view 
all  the  horrors  of  the  scene  before  him.  Forgetful  of  his 
own  fate,  he  saw — he  thought  only  of  her.  The  Indians 
leapt  upon  the  rock;  and  turning  about  the  canoe,  now 
freighted  with  its  slight  burden,  committed  it  to  the  tender 
mercies  of  the  strong  flood,  and  swam  leisurely  toward  the 
western  bank  to  join  the  crowd  of  savages  that  stood, 
breathless  around  the  young  privateer,  now  no  longer  an 
object  of  attraction,  all  looking  intently — but  with  feelings 
how  different! — on  the  doomed  bark,  which  left  to  the 
sport  of  the  element,  began  to  gather  strength  as  it  glided 
on.  At  first,  it  shot  gracefully  down,  yielding  to  the  will 
of  the  current  as  lightly  as  if  it  had  been  the  feather  of  a 
wood-pigeon  that  had  fallen  from  her  ruffled  neck  as  she 
flew  across  the  river ;  but  soon  its  course  was  interrupted 
by  a  sudden  breeze  that  struck  it  transversely,  and  threw  it 
into  one  of  the  small  whirlpools  just  described,  where  it 
went  spinning  around  dizzily  with  the  short,  quick  eddies 
for  a  moment,  and  then,  regaining  the  prevailing  current, 
darted  on  with  renewed  celerity.  Its  course  was  more  than 
once  impeded  in  this  manner ;  so  that  it  seemed  endowed 
not  only  with  wings,  but  with  actual  intelligence,  flitting  to 
and  fro  upon  the  surface  of  the  water  like  a  fire-fly  dancing 
in  the  uncertain  twilight  of  a  summer  evening,  but  still 
tending  towards  the  jaws  of  the  chasm  that  was  gaping  to 
swallow  it  up. 

The  combustible  fuel  that  had  been  piled  high  around 
the  other  captive  had  by  this  time  been  kindled,  and  the 
flames,  nearly  free  of  smoke,  running  from  the  windward, 
began  to  curl  in  ruddy  wreaths  around  the  borders  of  the 
enclosure,  gathering  volume  and  strength  from  the  fitful 
breath  of  the  breeze.  Already  had  the  heat  penetrated  to 
the  tree  around  which  it  glowed ;  already  had  it  thrown  its 


MOUNT     HOPE.  181 

suffocating  glare  over  the  features  of  the  privateer ;  yet  he 
heard  not  the  crackling  sound  that  admonished  him  of  its 
approach — saw  not  the  spires  as  they  shot  exultingly  above 
him — felt  not  the  flame.  The  broad  sweeping  tide — the 
little  boat — the  pale,  still,  helpless  maiden,  now  brought  so 
near  him  that  he  could  see  the  outline  of  her  face  bent  upon 
him — the  small  twinkling  hand  that  waved  in  token  of  the 
final  separation — these  he  saw,  and  these  alone.  A  single 
whoop  that  broke  from  the  crowd,  denoting  surprise  or 
recognition  rather  than  exultation  or  fear,  answered  from 
the  opposite  shore,  arrested  his  attention.  He  looked,  and 
beheld  a  solitary  Indian,  his  scalp-lock  adorned  with  the 
feathers  of  the  gray  eagle,  dashing  aside  the  low  pine  boughs 
that  impeded  his  steps,  and  running  rapidly  toward  the 
river.  He  stopped  a  moment  on  the  bank,  threw  aside  the 
otter  cloak  that  encumbered  his  shoulders,  cast  off  the  wam 
pum  belt  from  his  loins,  and  the  bow  from  his  back ;  and 
plunging  into  the  stream  below  the  boat,  struck  out  boldly 
from  the  shore.  The  haughty  bird  whose  plumes  mingled 
with  his  coal-black  hair,  could  scarcely,  when  in  the  pride 
of  life  he  darted  from  his  cliff,  have  cleft  the  air  with  more 
bold  and  sinewy  strokes  than  those  with  which  the  strong 
swimmer  stemmed  the  river,  turning  his  head  while  he 
swam,  to  mark  the  progress  of  the  canoe,  and  then  hurrying 
farther  out  into  the  current  that  seemed  already  bearing 
him  down.  The  strife  was  one  of  fearful  inequality ;  for 
the  momentum  which  the  canoe,  though  light,  had  acquired 
in  its  descent,  together  with  the  power  of  the  current, 
already  whitened  with  streaks  of  foam,  seemed  too  great 
for  the  unassisted  strength  of  a  single  arm.  He  reached 
forth  his  hand  to  grasp  the  prow,  but  the  slippery  bark  glided 
through  his  fingers,  and  rubbed  against  his  forehead  as  he 
disappeared  from  view  behind  it.  Suddenly  it  quivered  and 

16 


182  MOUNT    HOPE. 

stopped  in  mid  course.  The  swarthy  hand  of  the  Indian 
was  visible  upon  the  stern,  and  then  the  plumed  head  could 
be  seen  making  for  the  western  shore.  The  canoe  yielded 
like  a  wreath  of  foam  to  his  gigantic  strength,  as  slowly  he 
drew  it  from  the  current,  and  then,  heading  it  about,  pushed 
it  before  him  to  the  shore.  As  soon  as  it  struck  the  sand, 
he  took  it  up  in  his  arms  with  its  burden,  and  placed  it  high 
upon  the  bank.  Without  stopping  to  liberate  the  captive 
maiden,  he  ran  hurriedly  toward  the  crowd,  which  gave 
way  on  either  hand  at  his  approach,  bounded  over  the  burn 
ing  wood,  and  with  a  steel  hatchet  which  he  had  hastily 
snatched  up  in  his  progress,  cut  the  tough  thongs  of  deer 
skin  and  wooden  withes  with  which  Ashford  had  been  so 
securely  bound,  and  bore  him  from  the  flames.  Then 
pointing  to  the  canoe,  and  addressing  Tuspaquin,  he  said, 
angrily,  "Bring  the  pale  maiden  to  the  arms  of  the  white 
captain.  Pometacom  has  a  wife.  The  great  son  of  Massa- 
soit  points  not  the  arrows  of  flint  against  the  long-haired 
maiden.  I  have  spoken." 

Tuspaquin  slowly  and  sullenly  cut  the  cords  that  con 
fined  Anne  Willoughby  to  the  canoe.  In  a  moment  the 
lovers  stood  side  by  side  with  the  great  sachem  in  his 
wigwam. 


MOUNT     HOPE.  183 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

"A  stoic  of  the  woods— a  man  without  a  tear." 

WINTER  now  began  to  exhibit  its  more  forbidding  fea 
tures,  binding  the  streams  in  fetters  of  ice  and  darkening 
the  sky  with  storms.  The  snows  had  already  fallen  heavily 
over  the  whole  surface  of  the  country,  hiding  every  feature 
of  the  upland  and  the  valley  in  undistinguishable  obscurity. 
In  the  midst  of  this  dead  uniformity  of  nature,  the  fears 
of  the  colonists  increased  to  a  tenfold  degree.  It  appeared 
to  them  as  if  the  smiles  of  Providence  had  been  withdrawn 
with  the  departure  of  the  singing  birds  and  the  summer 
sun ;  that  the  blasts  and  snows  were  the  natural  companions 
and  kindred  spirits  of  the  savages,  who,  securely  cabined 
and  provisioned  in  the  recesses  of  impenetrable  swamps, 
lent  to  the  storm  a  voice  and  spirit  more  fearful  than  its  own. 

The  Narragansets  had  not  as  yet  taken  a  very  active 
part  against  the  English.  Indeed,  the  colonists  had,  as 
early  as  July  of  that  year,  extorted  from  four  Indians  of 
the'tribe  what  they  called  a  treaty ;  in  which  it  was  agreed 
on  the  part  of  the  Indians  that  they  would  employ  all 
possible  means  of  hostility  against  Philip  and  his  subjects, 
kill  them  wherever  they  could  be  found,  and  deliver  them 
up  to  the  English  alive  or  dead.  The  Indians  who  signed 
this  pretended  treaty  were  not  sachems,  nor  had  they 
either  from  birth  or  prowess  any  power  to  bind  the  tribe  or 
to  make  good  their  promise.  This  transaction  was  a  farce 
of  the  most  ridiculous  character,  and  reflects  even  less 


184  MOUNT    HOPE. 

honour  upon  those  who  fraudulently  procured  it  than  upon 
the  dupes  who  thus  assumed  prerogatives  that  had  never 
belonged  to  them. 

The  Narragansets  were  now  making  preparations  either 
for  offensive  or  defensive  warfare  upon  &  scale  that  might 
well  excite  alarm  in  the  minds  of  the  colonial  commission 
ers,  and,  after  long  consultation,  they  resolved  on  raising  a 
force  adequate  to  crush  this  powerful  tribe  at  a  single  blow. 
This  army  consisted  of  one  thousand  men,  of  whom  Massa 
chusetts  furnished  five  hundred  and  twenty-seven;  Ply- 
mouth,  one  hundred  and  fifty-eight ;  and  Connecticut,  three 
hundred  and  fifteen.  It  was  commanded  by  Josiah  Wins- 
low,  governor  of  Plymouth  colony,  already  known  to  the 
reader  as  a  gentleman  of  family,  and  one  of  the  most 
accomplished  scholars  of  that  day,  who  possessed  many 
qualities  that  rendered  him  preeminent  as  a  military  officer. 
Those  from  Massachusetts  were  under  the  command  of 
Major  Appleton,  and  next  him  in  place  the  gallant  Moseley 
with  four  other  captains,  one  of  whom,  Captain  Prentice, 
had  charge  of  a  company  of  cavalry.  The  Connecticut 
forces  were  under  the  direction  of  Major  Treat :  they  were 
sub-divided  into  five  companies,  under  Captains  Seely, 
Gallup,  Mason,  Watts  and  Marshall; — while  the  small 
quota  furnished  by  Plymouth  consisted  of  two  companies 
under  Major  Bradford  and  Captain  Gorham. 

Prentice's  dragoons  on  the  seventeenth-  of  December 
penetrated  the  Indian  country  as  far  as  Pettyquamscott, 
which,  to  their  surprise,  they  found  a  mass  of  ruins. 
Fifteen  of  the  inhabitants,  terribly  mangled  and  scalped, 
lay  scattered  among  the  rubbish  of  their  homes.  The  next 
day  the  Massachusetts  and  Plymouth  forces  advanced  to 
this  place,  and  were  soon  joined  by  Treat  and  his  men. 
The  army  had  expected  to  find  comfortable  quarters  there, 


MOUNT     HOPE.  185 

and  Winslow  was  sorely  disappointed  to  find  that  Bull's 
garrison,  a  place  that  had  been  considered  impregnable, 
and  would  have  afforded  an  excellent  shelter,  was  in  com 
mon  with  the  village  totally  destroyed.  Thus  deprived  of 
shelter  from  the  winds  and  snows,  the  army  was  exposed 
through  the  whole  night  to  the  fierce  extremities  of  winter. 
The  horses  suffered  even  more  intensely  than  the  men,  for 
the  corn  which  was  to  have  supplied  their  supper  at  the 
garrison  was  totally  consumed.  Several  of  the  soldiers 
had  their  feet  frozen  during  the  night,  and  most  of  them 
slept  but  little. 

The  Narragansets  were  well  aware  of  what  was  going 
forward,  and  were  prepared  for  the  expected  encounter,  by 
every  precaution  that  skill  in  fortification  and  their  limited 
knowledge  of  the  mode  of  warfare  practiced  by  their 
formidable  enemy  could  suggest.  They  were  under  the 
direction  of  Canonchet,  better  known  by  the  name  Nanun- 
tenoo,  a  chief  no  less  distinguished  for  his  daring  than  for 
his  caution,  who  felt  all  the  wrongs  which  the  assailants 
had  inflicted  upon  him  and  his  tribe,  increased  a  thousand 
fold  in  intensity  from  the  consciousness  that  he  had  spared 
no  pains  to  keep  himself  and  his  subjects  free  from  the 
entanglements  of  war,  in  which  Philip  had  long  sought  in 
vain  to  involve  him.  But  the  memory  of  the  cruel  death 
of  his  father  Miantunamoh,  and,  perhaps,  more  than  all  else, 
the  mock  treaty  which  had  been  forced  upon  his  tribe 
without  his  consent,  had  succeeded  in  consummating  what 
the  masterly  address  of  Philip  had  failed  to  bring  about — 
an  entire  change  in  the  chieftain's  views  and  policy.  Ho 
had  now  thrown  off  his  disguise  (if  such  it  was)  of  neu 
trality,  and  appeared  in  open  arms  against  the  English. 

He  was  already  apprised  by  his  runners  of  the  close 
proximity  of  the  English  to  his  fort,  and  now  anxiously 
16* 


186  MOUNT     HOPE. 

awaited  the  appearance  of  Philip  with  the  reinforcement 
which  he  was  expected  to  bring  in  aid  of  the  defence  of  the 
spot  where  his  tribe  had  held  their  principal  seat  for  many 
generations,  and  which  had  been  gradually  fortified  by  suc 
cessive  sachems,  until  he  might  well  deem  it  impregnable. 

This  fort  was  situated  upon  an  island  or  upland  plain, 
containing  about  six  acres  of  ground,  in  the  midst  of  a 
vast  cedar  swamp,  so  dense  in  its  foliage  and  fibrous  brush 
wood  that  the  winds  and  snows  that  howled  around  it  could 
scarcely  penetrate  its  depths,  and  the  very  approach  of 
any  footsteps,  save  that  of  the  wolf  or  of  the  savage  men 
who  had  chosen  it  for  their  retreat,  seemed  impossible. 

Around  this  elevated  platform  strong  palisades  of  cedar 
had  been  driven  into  the  ground,  and  lashed  together  with 
withes  of  hickory ;  and  this  was  surrounded  with  a  hedge 
of  ever-green  boughs,  so  closely  matted  together  by  the 
weight  of  heavy  logs,  and  masses  of  stone  that  had  been 
piled  upon  them,  as  to  make  a  high,  solid  defence,  almost 
as  firm  as  a  wall  of  brick  or  stone,  and  nearly  a  rod  in 
thickness. 

Through  this  "rude  abattis,"  as  one  of  our  historians 
has  very  properly  denominated  it,  there  was  but  a  single 
entrance,  and  this  was  over  an  immense  log,  five  or  six  feet 
from  the  ground,  that  stretched  across  a  stream  too  deep  to 
be  forded.  This  opening,  if  such  it  could  be  called,  was 
"commanded  in  front  by  a  log-house,  and  on  the  left  by  a 
flanker."  In  the  summer,  this  little  oasis  in  the  midst  of 
the  waste  that  surrounded  it  would  have  presented,  with  its 
freshly-springing  flowers,  its  long  grass,  and  luxuriant 
foliage,  walled  in  with  the  cedars  and  bushes  that  lined  its 
green  margin,  and  covered  with  its  wigwams  of  clay  scat 
tered  at  random  under  the  few  tall  maples  and  ash-trees 
that  had  shot  their  roots  downward  and  their  branches 


MOUNT    HOPE.  187 

upward  until  every  roof-tree  had  become  a  monument  to 
mark  some  traditionary  tale  memorable  in  the  history  of 
the  tribe,  might  have  afforded  a  spectacle  wild  and  primitive 
to  the  eye  as  any  of  those  fairy-haunted  dells  with  which 
the  earlier  English  poets  garnish  their  beloved  island. 

The  side-saddle  plant — the  water-lily,  with  its  white 
bosom  and  aromatic  perfume — might  have  been  seen  swim 
ming  in  the  water  without  the  palisades ;  and  within,  the 
pride  of  the  meadow  rising  above  the  tall  bent  grass  that 
concealed  the  arbutus  or  the  native  wild-rose.  But  now,  in 
the  dead  of  winter,  its  whole  appearance  was  sombre  and 
solitary.  The  very  foliage  of  the  cedars  looked  even  more 
gloomy  than  the  bare  trunks  and  naked  limbs  of  the  ash 
and  maple  that  intercepted  the  dun  smoke  as  it  ascended 
from  an  hundred  wigwams. 

The  lodge  of  Nanuntenoo  stood  in  the  midst  of  the 
enclosure,  upon  the  highest  point  of  ground,  and  was  of 
dimensions  to  accommodate  a  council  of  two  hundred  war- 
riors.  The  dry-wood  fire  that  occupied  its  centre  on  that 
December  evening  blazed  high,  diffusing  a  welcome  warmth 
to  the  very  matting  that  formed  its  simple  walls. 

Near  the  entrance,  at  some  distance  from  the  fire,  sat  the 
chief  of  the  Narragansets,  in  the  midst  of  a  small  company 
of  his  sachems  and  warriors,  in  consultation.  To  judge 
from  the  fiery  looks  of  those  who  surrounded  him,  it  was 
evidently  a  fierce  debate  ;  but  the  chief's  eye,  as  seen  by 
the  uncertain  light  of  the  fire,  was  indicative  of  no  anti 
cipated  triumph.  His  large  angular  features,  high  and 
marked,  even  to  an  unusual  degree,  with  the  projection  of 
the  cheek-bone  that  is  said  to  characterize  the  aboriginal 
races,  were  passive  and  calm  as  those  of  a  philosopher  of 
the  stoic  school.  His  voice  also  was  grave,  and  free  alike 
from  enthusiasm  and  passion.  With  a  complexion  a  shade 


188  MOUNT     HOPE. 

darker  than  that  of  the  other  Indians,  his  black  hair  fell 
down  upon  his  shoulders  in  heavy  masses,  while  upon  the 
frontal  part  of  the  head  it  stood  up  erect  and  bristling,  as  if 
every  individual  hair  had  been  a  fibre  of  iron.  The  whole 
of  this  polled  or  shaven  surface  was  ornamented  with  the 
feathers  of  the  ospray,  the  same  that  Miantunnamoh  had 
worn  by  many  a  council-fire.  He  wore  moccasins  and 
leggins  of  deer-skin,  and  a  coat  with  gilt  buttons,  purchased 
probably  of  the  English,  in  exchange  for  skins  or  wampum. 
His  neck  was  entirely  bare,  and  the  coat  being  open,  gave 
to  view  what  savages  are  seldom  ambitious  to  conceal — a 
throat  and  chest,  the  muscles  of  which,  naturally  fine,  were 
so  well  distended  by  toil  and  rough  exposure,  as  to  differ 
little  in  hardness  from  the  bones  which  they  concealed. 
The  statue  of  an  aboriginal  god,  wrought  of  the  hardest 
stone,  could  not  have  expressed  more  of  the  powers  of  stern, 
passive  endurance  than  was  delineated  in  the  face  and  figure 
of  this  chieftain. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  fire,  and  against  the  wall  of  the 
wigwam,  sat  a  group  of  Indian  women,  in  the  midst  of 
whom,  with  the  long  hair  falling  about  her  shoulders,  and 
reaching  even  to  her  small  feet,  sat  the  queen  of  the  "W  am- 
panoags,  screening  from  the  light  of  the  fire  the  last  de 
scendant  of  the  line  of  Massasoit,  and  looking  earnestly  into 
the  face  of  the  child  as  he  slept  upon  her  bosom,  forgetful 
of  his  tiny  bow  and  quiver.  The  expression  of  pride,  that 
belongs  of  right  to  the  features  of  every  Indian,  was  in  the 
eye  and  upon  the  brow  of  Wookenuske,  softened  and  qual 
ified  by  a  mournful  solicitude,  as  if  the  curtain  of  the  future 
had  been  uplifted,  and  the  dark  events  that  lay  behind  it 
suddenly  disclosed  to  her  vision.  It  was  currently  believed 
among  the  Indians  that  she  possessed  the  power  of  pro 
phesy,  on  which  account  she  was  treated  with  a  double 


MOUNT     HOPE.  189 

reverence.  If  this  was  indeed  true,  the  leaves  of  fate  were 
never  intrusted  to  a  sybil  who  had  a  purer  soul  or  a  more 
darkly-rolling  eye. 

"Why  comes  not  the  chief  of  the  eagle's  plume?"  said 
the  queen  to  herself,  looking  anxiously  toward  the  door  of 
the  lodge.  "It  is  late;  the  sky  is  lighted  with  the  white 
ashes  of  the  sacrifice  that  the  god  of  evil  has  scattered  upon 
the  winds.  But  the  snows  are  not  good ;  the  queen  likes 
them  not." 

A  single  whoop,  like  a  horn-blast  blown  before  the  gate 
of  a  castle,  now  sent  its  thrill  to  her  ear.  She  would  have 
known  its  faintest  echo  as  it  died  among  the  tree-tops.  It 
had  cheered  her  heart  a  thousand  times  in  days  that  were 
past,  and  had  mingled  its  sound  with  the  swift  foot-steps  of 
the  young  warrior-chief  as  he  flew  to  her  arms,  laden  with 
the  trophies  of  victory.  But  now  no  echo  followed  the  pre 
monitory  note  that  fell  like  a  spent  arrow  against  the  walls 
of  the  lodge.  It  was  the  voice  of  Pometacom. 

"The  chief  of  the  Wampanoags  is  at  the  door  of  the 
cabin  of  the  son  of  Miantunnamoh,"  said  Nanuntenoo: 
"  there  are  many  steps  upon  the  snow ;  he  has  many  people 
with  him." 

A  crackling  sound  succeeded,  as  of  footsteps  among  the 
bushes;  and  then,  passing  along  the  high  log  that  formed 
the  only  entrance,  the  sachem  leaped  into  the  fort,  followed 
in  single  file  by  more  than  three  hundred  warriors,  and 
having  in  charge  the  white  prisoners  of  whom  the  reader 
has  already  made  the  acquaintance.  He  stepped  boldly  up 
to  Canonchet,  and  waved  his  hand  in  response  to  the  wel 
come  of  the  Narraganset. 

Never  were  two  men  placed  side  by  side  whose  features 
and  bearing  presented  a  more  striking  contrast.  The  eye 
of  the  Wampanoag,  already  kindled  with  the  impending 


190  MOUNT     HOPE. 

battle,  gleamed  wildly  as  the  flames  of  the  fire  that  gave  his 
high  forehead  and  strongly-marked,  though  graceful  linea 
ments  to  view.  His  look  expressed  at  once  all  the  enthu 
siasm,  all  the  strength  of  will,  all  the  pride,  both  of  intellect 
and  descent,  that  marked  every  action  of  his  life,  and  have 
still  left  their  indelible  traces  upon  the  history  of  the  war 
of  which  he  was  the  author  and  the  soul.  On  the  other 
hand,  Nanuntenoo  stood  calm  and  cold,  as  if  the  tides  of 
battle  had  never  flowed  in  his  veins. 

"Welcome!"  said  he,  addressing  his  visiter.  "The 
sachem  of  the  woods  beyond  the  waters  is  welcome  to  the 
lodge  of  the  chief  of  the  Narragansets." 

"  Are  the  warriors  of  Canonchet  ready  ?"  asked  Philip, 
impetuously;  "have  they  sacrificed  to  their  god?  are  the 
strings  of  their  bows  new  ?  are  their  arrows  sharp  ?" 

The  son  of  Miantunamoh  has  new  sinews  of  deer  tied  to 
his  bow,  and  his  arrows  have  wings  of  the  feathers  of  the 
ospray,"  replied  the  Narraganset,  briefly. 

"  It  is  good  :  to-morrow  the  pale-faces  come ;  they  sleep 
in  the  snows  to-night ;  they  shall  sleep  in  the  snows  until 
the  spring  melts  the  flesh  from  their  bones.  Where  is  the 
queen  of  the  Wampanoags?" 

Canonchet  pointed  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  lodge. 

Philip  passed  around  the  fire,  and  kneeling  so  as  not  to  dis 
turb  the  sleep  of  the  boy,  placed  one  hand  gently  upon  his 
head  and  the  other  upon  the  brow  of  his  queen.  He 
smiled  as  he  whispered  in  her  ear,  "  The  son  of  Metacom 
sleeps,  and  Kenuske  is  his  good  spirit — she  is  his  dream/' 

"He  will  open  his  dark  eyes  in  the  morning,"  replied 
the  mother ;  "  he  will  draw  his  bow,  and  show  that  he  is 
the  son  of  a  great  chief." 

Philip  now  placed  Ashford  and  Cornelius  under  guard ; 
and,  with  the  same  kindness  which  had  governed  all  his 


MOUNT     HOPE.  191 

conduct  toward  Miss  Willoughby  and  Emily  since  he  had 
first  met  them,  and  snatched  the  former  from  a  watery 
grave,  he  then  led  them  forward,  and  spread  their  mats 
with  his  own  hand  near  that  of  his  wife  and  child.  He 
then  retired  to  the  other  side  of  the  lodge,  and  motioned  to 
Mrs.  Doolittle  to  follow.  But  the  dame  only  replied,  as 
she  drew  more  closely  around  her  the  bear-skin  in  which 
she  had  already  bestowed  herself — 

"  Does  the  black  imp  of  Sathan  think  I  cannot  go  to  sleep 
without  his  gallavanting  and  politeness?  He  had  better 
attend  to  his  own  squaw  and  sannup;  Dorothea  Doolittle 
can  find  a  place  to  lay  an  honest  head  upon,  without  the 
help  of  the  like  of  him.  Beckon  and  motion  to  me  indeed ! 
If  once  you  did  the  like  of  that  in  any  room  in  the  Pompe- 
rauge  Public,  a  kettle  of  boiling  water,  poured  over  the 
black  face  of  ye,  would  be  the  mildest  treatment  ye  should 
get  at  my  hands!" — As  she  concluded,  she  covered  her 
face  with  a  corner  of  the  bear-skin,  in  token  of  the  inex 
pressible  contempt  which  his  interference  had  awakened. 

The  chief  turned  away  from  her  with  an  exclamation  of 
astonishment  at  conduct  which  he  was  totally  unable  to 
understand. 

Before  the  fire  died  away  in  the  lodge,  the  chieftain  and 
his  prisoners  were  wrapped  in  profound  sleep. 


192  MOUNT     HOPE 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

«A  mass  of  ashes  slaked  with  blood."— SCOTT. 

LITTLE  repose  had  Winslow  and  his  men  as  they  lay 
pillowed  upon  the  snows  that  fell  throughout  the  greater 
part  of  that  long,  dreary  night.  With  the  first  peep  of  dawn 
they  were  aroused,  and  commenced  their  march  towards 
the  enemy,  who  were  still  distant  from  them  about  fifteen 
miles.  The  Massachusetts  forces,  under  Moseley,  marched 
in  front;  General  Winslow,  with  the  two  companies  from 
Plymouth,  formed  the  centre ;  and  the  troops  from  Connect- 
icut,  under  Major  Treat,  brought  up  the  rear.  Without 
food,  except  what  they  snatched  up  hastily  on  their  march, 
without  fire,  without  even  the  requisite  amount  of  clothing 
to  protect  them  from  the  severity  of  the  weather,  and  wading 
through  the  deep  snow,  the  army  still  made  the  best  of  their 
way  onward,  and,  notwithstanding  the  difficulties  that  beset 
them  at  every  step,  kept  up  their  flagging  spirits  for  many 
a  weary  mile.  About  one  o'clock,  they  entered  the  out 
skirts  of  the  swamp,  and  had  not  marched  many  rods  before 
they  fell  in  with  an  advanced  party  of  the  enemy. 

Moseley,  who  was  in  the  van,  immediately  directed  his 
men  to  fire  on  them.  Their  shot  was  evidently  not  without 
effect ;  for  the  enemy,  although  they  returned  it,  retreated 
with  precipitation  until  they  had  led  their  pursuers  to  the 
entrance  of  the  fort  which  we  have  before  described. 
Moseley  did  not  wait,  for  the  other  troops  to  join  him,  but 
led  his  men  one  by  one  past  the  block-house,  and  along  the 


MOUNT    HOPE.  193 

log  into  the  enclosure.  The  Indians  who  had  just  retreated 
before  him,  now  opened  a  deadly  fire  from  the  block-house, 
which  was  seconded  from  the  fort  with  such  zeal  in  every 
direction,  that  he  was  compelled  to  retreat.  The  main 
body  of  the  army  now  pressed  stoutly  on,  but  the  dense 
bushes,  laden  heavily  with  snow  that  fell  in  their  faces  as 
they  brushed  them  aside,  blinded  their  eyes,  and  greatly 
impeded  their  march.  Captains  Johnson  and  Davenport, 
with  several  of  the  best  men  under  Moseley's  command, 
were  already  killed,  and  many  others  wounded. 

Philip  and  about  fifty  of  his  best  Avarriors  were  stationed 
in  the  lodge,  where  he  had  passed  the  night,  and  poured 
their  fire  into  the  enemy,  unprotected  as  they  were,  with 
fatal  effect. 

Meanwhile,  Nanuntenoo,  who  had  stationed  himself,  with 
about  one  hundred  warriors,  without  the  fort,  and,  as  he 
supposed,  beyond  the  reach  of  the  English,  opened  a  mur 
derous  fire  upon  those  who  had  entered  it.  Captain  Gard 
ner,  of  Salem,  was  shot  through  the  head  first,  as  Church, 
who  was  acting  in  the  capacity  of  aid-de-camp  to  the 
general,  had  entered  the  fortification.  Church  instantly 
perceiving  that  the  ball  came  from  the  upland  without  the 
palisades,  sent  a  messenger  to  General  Winslow,  and  com 
municated  the  fact  to  him,  requesting  that  he  might  be 
permitted  to  fall  in  the  rear,  and  dislodge  the  enemy.  As 
soon  as  he  found  that  his  request  was  granted,  he  left  the 
fort  with  his  small  company,  and  soon  struck  into  a  broad, 
bloody  trail,  along  which  the  Indians  had  dragged  their 
dead  and  wounded. 

It  was  not  long  before  he  espied  Canonchet  and  his 
warriors,  lying  close  behind  the  bushes,  and  gave  orders  to 
his  party  that  the  instant  they  saw  the  Indians  rise  to  fire 
into  the  fort,  they  should  consider  that  as  the  signal  to  fire 

17 


194  -MOUNT.  HOPE. 

upon  them.  This  was  done  with  such  well-directed  aim, 
that  more  than  thirty  Indians  were  killed  at  the  first  shot. 
The  rest,  stunned  and  astonished  to  find  an  enemy  in  their 
rear,  rushed,  some  into  the  fastnesses  of  the  swamp,  and 
others  through  the  bushes  and  over  the  palisades,  hotly 
pursued  by  the  English.  The  fugitives  concealed  them- 
selves  as  well  as  they  were  able  in  a  wigwam  that  stood 
near  the  palisades.  The  Connecticut  troops,  under  Major 
Treat,  had  already  effected  an  entrance,  and  were  now  in 
close  contact  with  the  Indians.  Moseley  rushed  forward  to 
the  lodge,  where  Philip  and  his  bravest  men  still  fought 
with  desperate  courage,  projecting  the  barrels  of  their  mus 
kets  through  the  crevices  in  the  wall,  and  taking  deliberate 
aim  at  the  officers,  with  comparative  security  to  themselves. 
Every  wigwam  in  the  fort  had  its  little  garrison  armed  with 
guns  or  bows  and  arrows  that  sent  forth  secretly  their 
messengers  of  death  from  behind  every  obstacle  that  could 
offer  a  screen  to  the  marksman.  Of  course,  the  English 
could  pursue  no  regular  method  of  warfare.  They  went 
in  detached  parties  of  three  or  four  men  from  wigwam  to 
wigwam,  driving  the  Indians  before  them,  or  closing  in 
mortal  struggle  with  the  inmates.  Church  passed  from 
lodge  to  lodge,  cheering  on  his  men,  and  striking  to  the 
earth  all  who  opposed  him,  with  that  total  disregard  of  the 
lives  or  limbs  of  the  enemy  with  which  long  experience  of 
the  habits  of  Indians,  and  long  practice  in  hunting  them  in 
the  woods,  had  endowed  him.  This  promiscuous  species 
of  warfare  was  to  him  a  natural  element.  The  twang  of 
the  bow-string,  the  flight  of  the  arrow,  the  yells  from  a 
thousand  'throats— blended  with  the  mighty  voice  of  the 
winter  wind  as  it  swept  around  the  borders  of  the  dreary 
swamp,  moaning  among  the  ever-greens  that  surrounded 
the  scene  of  conflict,  like  the  distant  wail  of  the  ocean  after 
a  storm — were  music  blithe  as  that  of  a  holiday  to  his  ear. 


MOUNT     HOPE.  195 

Nearly  all  the  English  troops  had  now  entered  the  fort, 
and  the  work  of  destruction  was  going  forward  from  so 
many  points  of  attack  and  defence  over  its  whole  area, 
that  both  parties  were  exposed  as  well  to  the  fire  of 
their  friends  as  to  that  of  their  enemies.  The  flakes  of 
gnow  that  loaded  the  sky  seemed  scarcely  more  uncertain 
of  the  objects  upon  which  they  were  to  alight  in  their  hov 
ering  descent,  than  the  numberless  balls  and  missiles  of  the 
besiegers  and  the  besieged,  as  they  passed  by  and  crossed 
each  other's  track  through  the  air,  sometimes  piercing  the 
bodies  of  the  combatants,  and  sometimes  quivering  in  the 
posts  of  the  wigwams  that  arrested  their  misdirected  flight. 

The  battle  had  now  raged  full  three  hours  with  unabated 
fury,  and  many  of  the  bravest  of  the  English  officers  were 
lying  dead  upon  the  snow.  Church  had  already  been 
carried  off  from  the  field,  dangerously  wounded,  and  still 
the  great  central  wigwam  or  council  lodge  of  Nanuntenoo, 
where  Philip  fought  with  a  ferocity  that  would  have  dis 
mayed  spirits  less  daring  than  those  of  Moseley  and  Treat, 
sent  forth  its  shafts  and  bullets  from  every  orifice  with 
which  the  shot  of  the  assailants  had  perforated  it. 

The  prisoners,  whose  presence  was  not  yet  known  to 
their  friends,  by  lying  flat  upon  the  ground,  had  sustained 
no  serious  injury,  although  the  bullets  whistled  not  a  foot 
over  their  heads,  and  a  stray  arrow  had  already  passed 
through  the  gray  hair  of  Mrs.  DoolittJe  as  she  lay  upon 
her  face,  severing  from  her  head  a  large  share  of  those 
locks  already  sufficiently  thinned  by  time.  The  accident 
must  have  shocked  the  nerves  of  the  good  lady ;  for  she 
passed  her  hand  across  the  denuded  part  with  a  rueful 
expression  of  countenance,  and  then  reaching  forth  to  the 
arrow  that  .stood  fastened  in  the  side  of.  the  lodge,  plucked 
it  out,  and  broke  it  into  as  many  pieces  as  her  limited 


196  MOUNT     HOPE. 

space  for  exercising  her  strength  with  safety  would  permit ; 
at  the  same  time  muttering  between  the  seven  teeth  that 
still  retained  their  position  in  her  mouth — 

"Lord  of  mercy!  had  I  been  of  the  age  of  Emily,  I 
should  have  cried  my  eyes  out ;  but  it  is  the  least  of  my 
troubles  now.  Nothing,  Mr.  Ashford — nothing,  Miss  Wil- 
loughby,  like  being  forced  to  shut  up  the  Public.  Ah, 
thrift,  thrift! — there  is  little  thrift,  I  trow,  where  these  sooty 
devils — once  more  may  I  be  forgiven  for  the  use  of  wicked 
words! — are  screeching,  and  wauling,  and  shooting  their 
diabolical  stones  and  feathers  into  the  faces  and  eyes  of 
Christian  people !  Just  to  look  at  that  black-a-moor  Philip ! 
I  have  never  had  a  rational  experience  of  the  very  incar 
nate  evil  one  till  now.  How  the  painted  wretch  lays  about 
him  with  his  club,  and  his  great  stone  axe,  and  his  other 
salvage  clap-traps,  just  for  nothing  but  the  pure  love  of 
mischief!  I  wish,  with  all  my  heart,  and  soul  to  boot,  Mr. 
Ashford,  they  had  forgot  to  tie  your  legs  and  arms  in  that 
heathenish  way,  for  then  you  could  give  him  a  blow  in  the 
back  that  would  send  him  reeling,  as  I  have  seen  old 
Tyasque  before  now  when  he  was  drunk  with  occopeeches, 
as  the  barbarous  creature  calls  it.  You  would  fight,  sir, 
if  they  would  give  you  a  chance :  I  know  it  well  by  the 
flash  of  your  eye.  And  if  Cornelius  were  untied,  he 
might  do  something ;  but  no,  sir ;  there  aint  a  drop  of  blood 
that  runs  in  his  lazy  veins — he 's  as  well  bound  as  loose 
after  all.  He 's  a  coward,  from  his  great  pudding-head  to 
his  knees,  I  trow !  But  what  dreadful  racket  is  this  at  the 
hither-end  of  the  wigwam  ?  They  '11  tear  the  crazy  thing 
down,  and  murther  us  all  in  cold  blood." 

It  was  indeed  true  that  the  northern  end  of  the  wigwam, 
near  which  the  prisoners  lay,  and  which  had  not  before 
been  subjected  to  attack,  was  now  assailed  with  great 


MOUNT    HOPE.  197 

violence.  About  one  half  of  the  Indians  who  had  been 
fighting  by  Philip's  side  immediately  came  up  with  guns, 
clubs,  and  bows  and  arrows,  to  defend  the  breach,  which 
it  appeared,  from  the  weakness  of  the  structure  at  this 
point,  must  inevitably  be  made  in  it.  Even  Philip  looked 
back  towards  the  spot  where  his  beautiful  queen  and 
darling  son  seemed  exposed  to  new  dangers,  as  if  doubting 
whether  he  had  not  better  lend  his  own  gigantic  arm  to  the 
other  scale  of  the  doubtful  enterprise.  But  the  blows  near 
the  place  where  he  stood  were  now  renewed  with  redoubled 
fury ;  and  the  stern  old  privateer,  followed  by  several  of 
his  most  reckless  companions,  at  that  moment  bursting  into 
the  lodge,  determined  his  course.  Almost  at  the  same 
instant,  an  opening  was  forced  at  the  northern  extremity  of 
the  lodge,  and  immediately  Treat,  with  a  score  of  hardy 
Connecticut  troops — among  the  foremost  of  whom  Ashford 
immediately  recognised  the  slender  form  and  calm,  reso 
lute  face  of  Sherman — came  swarming  through  the  breach, 
that  widened  every  moment  as  they  pressed  in. 

With  a  quiet  smile,  and  without  uttering  a  word,  Sher 
man  freed  Ashford  of  the  thongs  that  had  hitherto  prevented 
him  from  sharing  in  the  mele&,  and  placed  in  his  hands  a 
cutlass  and  one  of  his  own  pistols.  Scarcely  had  the 
entrance  of  Treat  been  effected,  when  Canonchet  from  a 
neighbouring  wigwam  came  with  a  large  body  of  warriors 
to  the  relief  of  Philip,  following  hard  upon  Treat  and  his 
men  through  the  passage. 

"Face  about!"  said  the  old  farmer;  "face  about,  and 
clear  the  tent  of  them,  my  rnerry  men !  Give  them  blows, 
but  no  bullets,  for  the  love  of  Heaven,  for  here  are  prison 
ers,  and,  on  my  life,  women  too! — Strike  them  home!" 

Most  of  Treat's  officers  had  already  been  either  killed 
or  wounded;  but  every  private  had  the  spirit  of  a  hero, 
17* 


198  MOUNT    HOPE, 

and  would  have  died  at  any  moment,  much 'more  in  the 
heat  of  battle,,  to  oblige  the  major.  With  -Ash  ford  and 
Sherman  at  their  head,  they  did  indeed  strike  them  home 
with  such  fatal  "effect  that  Canonchet"  was  soon  forced  to: 
withdraw,  but  not  until  he  had  possessed  himself  of  the 
queen  and  son  of  Philip.  Both  were  carried  out  rather  as 
prisoners  than  as  friends — the  boy  struggling  in  vain  for 
liberty,  and  Wookenuske,  in  the  agony  of  her  sorrow, 
begging  the  chief  that  he  would  leave  her  to  perish  with 
Philip. 

"  Take  the  young  sachem  to  bear  the  bow  for  the  child- 
ren  of  the  eagle!"  she  exclaimed,  extending  her  hands  in 
the  attitude  of  supplication,  "  but  leave  Wookenuske  to  go 
to  the  spirit-lake  with  Pometacom!"  But  the  request  was 
unheeded  as  if  made  to  an  inanimate  object.  Impassive  as 
a  rock,  Canonchet  grasped  her  slender  waist,  and  bore  her 
off  with  friendly  violence. 

Meanwhile,  Philip  and  Moseley  were  engaged  in  a  strug 
gle  for  the  possession  of  the  wigwam,  that  seemed  of  very 
doubtful  issue.  Philip  was  surrounded  by  some  of  his  most 
tried  Warriors,  all  men  of  athletic  proportions  and  prodigious 
personal  strength.  On  the  other  hand,  the  privateers,  their 
blood  now  fairly  up,  seemed  more  ferocious  than  the  sav 
ages  themselves ;  so  that  the  encounter  was  like  that  of  an 
equal  number  of  beasts  of  prey,  goaded  to  madness  with 
hunger,  when  food  is  unexpectedly  thrown  into  their  midst. 
The  smothered  report  of  the  pistol  in  the  confined  enclosure 
of  the  wigwam  scarcely  equalled  the  stunning  sound  of  the 
heavy  war-club,  as  it  came  in  contact  with  the  skull  of  the, 
assailant.  Moseley  had  in  vain  sought,  from  the  time  that 
he  had  first  entered  the  lodge,  to  grapple  with  Philip,  and 
try  title  with  him  by  a  close  conflict  hand  to  hand.  This 
opportunity  now  presented  itself;  for  while  the  chief  was 


MOtTNT     HOPE.  199 

in  the  act  of  raising  his  club  to  strike  an  Englishman  who 
stood  near,  one  of  the  privateers,  taking  advantage  of  a 
cloud  of  smoke,  that  followed  the  discharge  of  a  pistol, 
grasped  the  club  with  both  his  hands,  and  wrested  it  from 
him.  At  the  same  instant  Moseley  sprang  forward,  and 
threw  his  arms  about  "the  body  of  the  sachem.  Philip 
immediately  closed  with  him,  throwing  his  brawny  arms 
around  him  with  a  force  that  must  have  broken  the  ribs  of 
a  less  powerful  antagonist.  This  trial  of  strength  brought 
the  other  parties  to  the  combat  to  a  stand,  and  all  looked  on 
with  breathless  interest  to  see  what  would  be  the  result. 
The  Englishman  was  short  and  clumsy,  but  muscular,  and 
hardened  with  toil  and  exposure  to  such  a  degree  that  his 
whole  frame  seemed  constructed  of  iron.  The  Indian,  tall, 
and  at  the  same  time  powerfully  made,  combined,  with  the 
agility  of  his  race,  the  strength  of  a  Greek  wrestler,  prac 
ticed  in  the  hardiest  school. 

There  could  be  little  doubt  what  must  be  the  result  of 
the  struggle;  at  least  so  thought  Cornelius,  who,  knowing 
that  he  was  now  exposed  to  little  danger,  and  feeling  a 
hearty  attachment  for  the  privateer,. to  whose  intercession, 
he  owed  his  life,  came  rolling  up  just  at  the  moment  when 
Moseley  seemed  about  to  fall  a  victim  to  the  superior 
strength  of  his  adversary,  and  struck  Philip  such  a  blow 
upon  the  head  with  his  cutlass,  that  he  reeled  and  fell, 
dragging  Moseley  after  him  to  the  ground. 

A  crowd  of  both  parties  closed  around  them  ;  but,  at  this 
crisis,  Major  Treat  came  to  the  aid  of  the  English  with 
such  a  superior  force,  that  Philip  was  compelled  to  retreat. 
This  event  decided  the  issue  of  the  battle. 

More  than  two  hundred  of  Winslow's  troops  lay  either 
dead  or  wounded  upon  the  field,  and  more  than  tv/ice  that 
number  of  Indians.  Scarcely  waiting  to  gather  up  their 


200  MOUNT     HOPE. 

dead,  and  leaving  hundreds  of  their  women  and  children  in 
the  fort  to  the  mercy  of  their  enemies,  the  combined  forces 
of  the  Wampanoags  and  Narragansets  fled  yelling  from  the 
fort  into  the  depths  of  the  swamp. 

The  English  now  began  to  set  fire  to  the  wigwams. 
Captain  Church,  who  was  severely  wounded,  and  faint 
from  loss  of  blood,  laboured  in  vain  to  prevent  this  wanton 
and  ill-judged  destruction  of  the  fortification.  Disabled  as 
he  was,  he  hastened  to  the  general,  and  begged  earnestly 
that  he  would  interpose  his  authority  to  save  it. 

"There  are,  may  it  please  your  excellency,"  said  the 
sagacious  soldier,  "hundreds  of  cabins  filled  with  stores  of 
provisions,  enough  to  victual  our  whole  army  till  spring. 
It  is  now  nearly  dark,  and  if  we  keep  possession  of  the 
place,  we  shall  have  shelter  for  the  wounded,  and  corn  for 
ourselves  and  our  horses.  If  we  burn  it,  the  wounded  will 
die  on  their  march  through  the  snow  before  morning." 

But  less  prudent  counsels  prevailed.  The  sky  was  soon 
illuminated  with  the  blaze  of  an  hundred  wigwams ;  and, 
amid  the  howl  of  the  storm  and  the  yells  of  perishing 
women  and  children,  the  fort  of  the  Narragansets  and  the 
royal  lodge  of  Nanuntenoo  lit  up  like  a  vast  beacon  the 
ground  that  they  had  so  nobly  defended,  streaming  over  the 
ghastly  surface  of  the  snow,  still  crimsoned  with  the  blood 
of  their  proudest  chieftains. 


MOUNT     HOPE.  201 


CHAPTER    XX. 


"I  never  asked  of  mortal  yet  a  boon, 
Nor  will  I  now.    Death  is  a  welcome  sleep, 
And  servitude  is  hell." 


THE  signal  victory  gained  by  the  English  over  the 
Narragansets,  so  far  from  intimidating  the  Indians,  only 
served  to  fasten  more  firmly  their  hereditary  hatred.  Nanun- 
tenoo,  who  had  been  reluctantly  drawn  into  the  struggle, 
now  roused  all  the  energies  of  his  naturally  inert  char 
acter  to  carry  on  with  every  aggravation  of  cruelty  the 
war  which  he  was  well  aware  must  terminate  in  the  utter 
extermination  of  one  or  other  of  the  contending  parties. 
Knowing  that  his  life  was  inevitably  forfeit,  like  all  other 
brave  men,  he  felt  that  there  was  now  left  for  him  no 
middle  ground  of  neutrality  or  compromise.  For  the 
remainder  of  the  winter,  the  burden  of  the  war  fell  mainly 
upon  his  shoulders ;  for  Philip  soon  left  the  colonies  for  the 
Canadas,  for  the  purpose  of  procuring  allies  against  the 
opening  of  the  spring  campaign.  That  chief  also  visited 
the  Mohawk  country,  where  he  exercised  all  his  eloquence 
and  address  to  involve  the  central  tribes  in  the  enterprise 
that  had  undivided  possession  of  his  soul.  He  flew  from 
settlement  to  settlement  with  astonishing  celerity,  defying 
alike  hunger,  cold,  and — what  is  more  discouraging  than 
all  other  obstacles  to  an  enthusiastic  nature — the  chilling, 
incredulous  looks  of  the  chiefs  whose  country  he  visited, 
and  who,  from  their  comparative  remoteness  from  the  scene 


MOUNT    HOPE. 

of  conflict,  had  little  experience  of  the  wrongs  of  which 
he  complained.  Nanuntenoo,  at  the  head  of  the  greater 
part  of  his  warriors,  withdrew  from  the  Narraganset  coun 
try  soon  after  the  destruction  of  his  fort,  and  united  his 
men  with  those  of  the  Nipmucks,  River  Indians,  and  other 
allies  of  Philip.  He  encamped  at  Squakheag,  maturing 
his  counsels  and  concentrating  his  forces  with  a  coolness 
and  skill  that  could  not  fail  to  keep  the  minds  of  the  Eng 
lish  in  constant  agitation.  The  work  of  devastation  went 
gradually  forward  for  miles  around  his  camp  during  the 
remainder  of  the  winter.  Villages  were  burned ;  cattle 
and  horses  driven  off  into  the  woods  to  supply  the  depre 
dators  with  food ;  men,  women  and  children  were  either 
killed  and  scalped,  or  dragged  into  a  captivity  that  grew 
more  and  more  irksome,  as  the  daily  progress  of  the  war 
added  to  the  recklessness  of  the  savages. 

Meanwhile,  Ashford,  with  a  small  escort  of  privateers 
and  a  few  colonists,  conducted  Miss  Willoughby  to  Hadley, 
where  she  was  safely  lodged  in  the  house  of  Mr.  Russel, 
and  where  she  found  her  uncle  awaiting  her.  Here  Ash- 
ford  remained  during  the  winter,  for  the  sake  of  repairing 
the  fort,  that  had  become  dilapidated  to  such  a  degree  as  to 
be  scarcely  a  defence  against  the  enemy,  and  more  espe 
cially  to  protect  from  further  casualty  the  maiden  who  had 
been  already  exposed  to  dangers  ill  adapted  to  her  sex  and 
rank. 

The  residue  of  the  English  army  remained  in  the  Narra 
ganset  country  for  several  weeks.  During  this  time  they 
destroyed  hundreds  of  Indian  villages,  already  deserted  by 
the  inhabitants,  and  took  possession  of  vast  stores  of  Indian- 
corn,  with  wampum  of  immense  value. 

Connecticut,  though  she  had  suffered  little  during  the 
war  from  the  encroachments  of  the  Indians,  had  furnished 


MOUNT     HOPE.  203 

her  full  quota  of  men,  in  obedience  to  the  orders  of  the 
commissioners.  Towards  spring  she  raised  several  volun 
teer  companies,  made  up  principally  of  citizens  from 
Norwich,  New  London,  and  Stonington,  with  a  large  num 
ber  of  Pequod  and  Mohegan  Indians,  for  the  further  annoy 
ance  of  the  enemy.  Captain  John  Denison,  a  man  who 
had  served  in  Ireland,  and  who  brought  to  the  enterprise  a 
high  courage,  tempered  with  more  skill  and  experience 
than  belonged  to  most  of  the  colonial  officers,  was  in  com 
mand.  Toward  the  close  of  March,  in  company  with 
Captain  Avery,  he  led  his  forces  into  the  Narraganset 
country.  Nanuntenoo  had  just  before  left  Squakheag,  and 
gone  down  to  Seekonk  for  the  purpose  of  procuring  seed- 
corn,  with  which  to  plant  the  intervals  of  Connecticut  river 
the  ensuing  season. 

While  crossing  the  enemy's  country,  Denison  accident 
ally  struck  the  trail  of  the  Indians.  It  was  large,  and 
easily  distinguished  by  a  less  practised  eye  than  that  of 
Denison.  He  had  not  followed  it  far  when  he  overtook 
two  squaws,  from  whom  he  learned  that  it  had  been  made 
by  Nanuntenoo  and  a  large  party  of  his  warriors,  and  that 
they  were  not  far  distant,  near  the  Black  river.  Denison 
hurried  forward,  and  soon  came  up  with  the  Indians,  who 
were  evidently  totally  unprepared  for  the  approach  of  so 
formidable  a  force,  and  fled  precipitately,  without  striking 
a  blow,  before  Nanuntenoo,  who  was  marching  in  advance 
of  his  men,  was  aware  of  the  pursuit.  He  faced  suddenly 
about,  and  called  desperately  on  his  warriors  to  turn  and 
close  in  with  the  English;'  but  they  were  already  thrown 
into  too  much  disorder  to  be  controlled,  and  the  frequent 
discharge  of  the  guns  of  the  pursuers,  with  the  yells  of 
the  savages,  drowned  the  voice  of  the  chief,  and  left  him 
only  the  hope  of  flight..  A  small  party  of  the  English, 


204  MOUNT     HOPE. 

with  two  or  three  Pequod  runners,  were  already  close  upon 
him,  and  several  rifles  were  discharged,  one  of  which 
lodged  a  ball  in  his  thigh ;  but  the  nimble-footed  sachem 
kept  on  his  course,  notwithstanding  this  impediment,  bound 
ing  through  the  bushes  that  obstructed  his  way,  and 
followed  by  a  young  Pequod  who  ran  with  the  speed  of  a 
greyhound,  his  eye  fixed  eagerly  on  the  fugitive.  When 
the  chief  reached  the  river  bank,  he  turned ;  and  perceiving 
that  the  runner  was  gaining  upon  him,  he  threw  off  his  laced 
coat  and  belt  of  peag,  and  plunged  into  the  river,  holding 
his  rifle  above  his  head,  and  fording  it  at  first  with  as  much 
apparent  ease  as  if  he  had  been  still  running  in  the  woods. 
But  the  current,  swollen  by  the  spring  rains,  rushed  along 
with  great  velocity,  so  that  he  was  carried  further  down  the 
stream  than  he  had  expected.  The  bed  of  the  river  was 
also  filled  with  large  boulders  of  granite,  that  had  been 
worn  smooth  by  long  contact  with  the  water,  and  were  so 
covered  with  slime  as  to  afford  an  uncertain  footing.  When 
he  had  reached  the  middle  of  the  channel,  he  accidentally 
stepped  upon  one  of  these  slippery  stones,  and  fell  headlong, 
at  the  same  time  plunging  his  rifle  deep  into  the  water. 
His  last  hope  was  now  extinct ;  the  Pequod  was  close  upon 
him,  and  the  rest  of  the  party  were  following  hard  behind. 

Faint  with  loss  of  blood,  the  chief,  with  the  useless 
weapon  still  clenched  in  his  hand,  dragged  himself  to  the 
bank.  He  had  scarcely  reached  it,  when  the  runner  seized 
him  about  the  waist,  and  threw  him  upon  the  ground. 
Nanuntenoo,  too  much  exhausted  to  resist,  lay  upon  his  face, 
without  even  deigning  to  bestow  a  look  upon  the  Pequod, 
until  Robert  Staunton,  the  leader  of  the  little  party,  came  up. 

Staunton,  who  was  a  young  man,  not  more  than  two-and- 
twenty  years  of  age,  on  arriving  at  the  place  where  Nanun 
tenoo  lay,  began  to  ply  him  with  questions. 


MOUNT     HOPE.  205 

The  prisoner  bent  his  cold  eye  upon  him,  and  replied, 
briefly,  in  such  English  as  he  could  commmand,  "You 
much  child ;  no  understand  matters  of  war ;  let  your  cap 
tain  come ;  him  I  will  answer." 

Denison  caused  him  to  be  conveyed  to  Stonington,  under 
a  strong  guard,  and  used  all  his  powers  of  entreaty  that  the 
noble  captive  might  be  spared ;  but  after  the  formalities  of 
a  trial,  that  are  said  by  historians  to  reflect  little  honour 
upon  the  triers,  he  was  condemned  to  death.  After  the 
verdict,  his  life  was  tendered  to  him,  if  he  would  consent  to 
make  peace  with  the  English :  he  spurned  the  proffer  with 
the  bitterest  scorn ;  and  was  sentenced  to  be  shot  by  the 
Mohegan  and  Pequod  sachems.  When  the  result  of  the 
trial  was  made  known  to  him,  he  replied,  calmly,  "Nanun- 
tenoo  likes  it  well ;  he  will  die  before  his  heart  is  soft,  and 
he  has  said  any  thing  unworthy  of  himself." 

The  records  of  Spartan  and  Roman  fame  do  not  contain 
a  sentiment  more  worthy  of  a  hero  when  passing  to  the  land 
where  his  religion  has  taught  him  that  valour  shall  be 
rewarded,  than  the  last  words  of  the  son  of  Miantunnamoh. 

18 


206  MOUNT    HOPE. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

"And  airy  tongues  that  syllable  men's  names."—  Comus. 

ASHFORD  spent  the  two  months  that  remained  of  the 
winter  in  rebuilding  the  fort  at  Hadley,  as  well  as  in  bring, 
ing  the  citizens  to  such  a  state  of  discipline  as  might  be 
needed  to  repel  the  invasion  of  the  enemy,  which  was  every 
day  rendered  more  probable.  His  elegance  of  person,  and 
frank,  easy  manners,  gave  him  the  same  ready  access  to 
the  hearts  of  the  inhabitants  that  had  in  all  places  been 
accorded  to  him.  His  former  haughtiness  of  bearing, 
together  with  the  abrupt,  reckless  air  that  is  peculiar  to  a 
life  of  adventure  upon  the  high  seas,  had  given  place  to  a 
deep  earnestness  that  blended  gracefully  with  the  enthusiasm 
of  his  character.  The  dashing  address  of  the  buccanier, 
the  restless  spirit  of  the  rover  that  used  to  gleam  in  his  eye 
and  flit  across  his  brow,  if  they  now  flashed  forth  for  an 
instant,  were  not  the  prevailing  expression.  But  all  the 
experience  of  the  privateer  remained  fresh  in  his  mind ; 
and  this  he  could  set  forth  in  anecdotes  of  events  that  took 
place  upon  desert  islands,  or  in  the  lonely  night-watch  upon 
deck,  in  language  at  once  so  lively  and  simple,  as  to  throw 
over  his  romantic  life  a  mystery  that  exalted  him  in  the 
imaginations  of  the  villagers  who  listened,  to  the  dignity  of 
a  hero.  In  any  circle,  his  vivid  delineations  of  what  he 
had  seen,  his  sympathetic  frankness,  might  have  made  him 
a  delightful  companion ;  but,  to  the  young  men  of  Hadley, 
he  was  at  the  same  time  an  object  mysterious  and  beloved. 


M1  O  IT  N  T     HOP  E'.  207 

Ashford  was  one  of  those  few  men  who,  from  a  combina 
tion  of  strong  physical  with  strong  intellectual  powers,  and 
all  aided  by  a  certain  native  facility  of  manner,  seldom 
excite  envy  or  emulation  in  the  breast  of  any  individual, 
of  whatever  rank.  He  never  seemed  to  act  from  motives 
of  policy,  nor  seek  by  any  studied  arts  even  the  good-will 
of  others,  which,  by  a  kind  of  necessity,  and  by  the  very 
play  of  his  faculties,  always  followed  his  words  and  actions. 
With  him,  every  thing  was  natural ;  whether  he  sung  a 
song,  or  told  a  sailor's  story,  it  was  the  theme  itself,  and  not 
the  execution  of  it,  that  appeared  to  engross  his  attention. 
He  knew  what  he  had  never  known  before — that  rare  state 
of  quiet,  and  almost  repose,  which  poets  have  sometimes 
supposed  to  be  the  very  impersonation  of  human  happiness. 

The  house  of  Mr.  Russell  was  the  centre  of  all  his  hopes, 
and  there  the  long  evenings  passed  by  on  wings  so  swift 
and  airy  that  he  was  scarcely  conscious  of  their  flight. 

One  evening,  early  in  April,  as  he  stepped  over  the 
threshold,  he  found  Mr.  Southworth  alone,  and  observed  a 
cloud  upon  his  features,  which  was  so  little  in  keeping 
with  the  bland  and  cordial  manner  with  which  the  reverend 
gentleman  usually  welcomed  him,  that  he  was  constrained 
to  inquire  the  cause. 

The  clergyman  replied  readily,  though  with  evident  signs 
of  embarrassment,  "I  should  do  a  great  wrong,  not  only  to 
myself  and  to  you,  but  also  to  one  who  is  dearer  to  me  than 
all  else  on  earth,  were  I  to  withhold  from  you  a  full  ex 
pression  of  the  doubts  that  harass  my  mind,  My  lovely 
Anne  is  both  young  and  an  orphan ;  she  has  been  left  me  as 
a  kind  of  legacy  by  parents  whom  I  loved  from  childhood, 
and  who  were  bound  to  me  by  ties  of  near  kindred.  I 
need  not  say  to  you,  that  whatever  relates  to  her  happiness 
or  interest  is  most  intimately  allied  to  mine.  Your  acci- 


208  MOUNT     HOPE. 

dental  arrival  at  the  Bluff,  and  your  repeated  visits  there, 
were  not  of  a  nature  to  call  for  any  inquiries  from  me,  and 
your  subsequent  conduct  towards  my  niece  has  confirmed 
me  in  the  conviction  which  I  have  all  along  entertained  of 
your  honour  and  worth.  We  of  the  gown  and  band,  Mr. 
Ash  ford,  know  little  beyond  what  we  read  in  the  books  of 
the  great  and  good  who  have  gone  before  us,  and  the  nar 
row  line  of  our  individual  or  social  experience.  The  world 
is  to  us  a  blank  page,  though  its  characters  are  bright,  per 
haps  golden  to  you.  This  must  be  my  excuse  for  what  I 
am  about  to  ask  you." 

"Whatever  you  may  ask,  shall  at  least  be  kindly  re 
ceived,"  interposed  Ashford. 

"You  have  already  informed  me  that  you  love  Miss 
Willoughby,  and  she  has  signified  to  me  that  the  sentiment 
is  returned.  But,  in  my  zeal  for  her  interest,  I  asked  her 
a  question  concerning  you  this  morning,  which,  to  my  sur 
prise,  she  told  me  she  was  unable  to  answer." 
"What  was  that,  Mr.  Southworth?" 
"I  inquired  of  your  family  and  former  occupation." 
"Sir,"  replied  Ashford,  "I  have  never  deceived  Miss 
Willoughby,  nor  will  I  you.  My  name  of  Ashford  belonged 
to  an  ancestor  of  my  mother,  but  it  is  not  my  father's  name. 
I  have  assumed  it  for  purposes  which  you  will  pardon  me 
if  I  tell  you  that  I  cannot  now  explain — which  my  personal 
safety  and  that  of  my  dearest  friends  make  it  indispensable 
that  I  should  for  the  present  keep  a  profound  secret — but  for 
purposes  which  are  not  only  honest,  but  honourable ;  pur 
poses  which,  though  they  may  seek  to  elude  the  forms  of 
justice,  are  stained  with  no  innocent  blood  nor  darkened 
with  crime.  But  my  life  and  that  of  another  might  be  the 
forfeit  were  I  to  disclose  my  name.  Yet,  if  you  will  for 
bear  to  question  me,  you  shall  know  all  in  good  time ;  and 


MOUNT     HOPE.  209 

if  I  do  not  make  every  thing  plain  to  your  satisfaction,  I 
will  relinquish  my  heart's  treasure,  and  again  become  a 
wanderer.  Wait  but  three  months,  till  I  can  communicate 
with  my  aged  father,  who  is  now  in  Holland,  and  know  of 
his  safety,  and  I  will  explain  all." 

The  clergyman  took  Ashford's  hand  with  more  confi 
dence  than  he  had  ever  before  felt  in  him,  and  pressed  it 
warmly  as  he  replied,  "  It  is  a  strange  tale,  but  there  is  truth 
stamped  in  every  line  of  that  face  of  thine,  and  I  will 
trust  thee." 

At  this  moment  a  light  step  was  heard  upon  the  stairs, 
the  door  opened,  and  as  Miss  Willoughby  entered  the  apart 
ment,  the  sensitive,  kind-hearted  clergyman  withdrew. 

The  features  of  the  young  lady  wore  a  troubled  expres 
sion,  and  her  colour  was  heightened  to  an  unusual  degree. 
Ashford  inquired  the  cause  with  deep  anxiety,  taking  both 
her  small  hands  in  one  of  his  as  he  spoke,  and  passing  the 
other  gently  across  her  flushed  forehead. 

"What  means  this  unwonted  shadow  of  sorrow?  or,"  he 
added,  playfully,  "  can  it  be  anger,  that  has  left  its  tinge 
upon  that  cheek,  and  am  I  the  unconscious  cause?" 

"My  uncle  has  explained  the  cause,"  answered  Miss 
Willoughby,  "if  I  am  to  judge  by  his  troubled  manner — 
a  manner  which  seldom  fails  to  express  what  is  uppermost 
in  his  mind.  Besides,  he  told  me  this  morning  of  his  inten 
tion  to  embrace  the  earliest  opportunity  to  address  you  upon 
the  subject  of  the  mystery  which  involves  you  and  your  fam 
ily.  May  I  ask  if  it  has  been  explained  to  his  satisfaction  ?" 

"I  have  maintained  a  reserve,  my  dearest  Anne,"  re 
plied  Ashford,  "upon  whatever  relates  to  my  name  and 
family,  for  reasons  which  I  have  already  hinted  at  in  my 
interviews  with  you,  and  which  I  have  promised  to  explain 
at  no  remote  day.  Mr.  Southworth  has  such  confidence 
18* 


210  MOUNT     HOPE. 

in  me,  that  he  is  willing  to  wait  three  months  for  an  answer 
that  is  to  place  me  on  a  footing  with  you  and  with  him, 
that  will  not,  I  hope,  take  from  me  the  love  and  esteem 
which  you  have  so  unreservedly  bestowed  upon  me.  My 
secret  is  my  master." 

"  And  is  your  father  really  in  danger,  should  you  disclose 
your  name?  I  think  you  have  already  told  me  that  he  is 
in  Holland  ;  and  may  I  ask  how  can  his  destiny  be  affected 
by  a  disclosure  to  those  who  will  keep  whatever  is  intrusted 
to  them  with  the  most  affectionate  fidelity?" 

"He  is  in  Holland,  dearest  Anne,  but  he  is  an  outlaw — 
a  condemned,  proscribed  man;  and  such  is  the  rancour  of 
the  reigning  monarch,  that  were  my  name  once  divulged, 
I  -should  be  subjected  to  the  extremes!  tortures  that  his 
minions  can  invent:  I  should  be  made  but  a  bait  and  a 
lure  to  entrap  him.  But  for  no  such  consideration  as  this 
would  I  withhold  the  secret  from  the  maiden  whom  I  have 
every  day  more  occasion  to  love,  were  there  not  an  addi 
tional  motive  for  silence  upon  this  subject,  which  I  cannot 
without  dishonour  disregard.  I  have  made  a  solemn 
pledge  to  a  friend  who  feels  a  deep  interest  in  the  welfare 
of  my  revered  parent,  and  whose  fate  is  implicated  in  his 
secret,  never  to  disclose  it  until  I  had  first  obtained  his 
leave.  As  I  hope  and  trust  in  Heaven,  I  dare  not  abrogate 
that  vow." 

"And  I  too,  William,  as  I  place  my  trust  in  the  same 
unerring  hand,  would  not  be  guilty  of  extorting  from  your 
lips  an  expression  that  would  involve  your  honour  and  your 
faith.  Keep  that  vow  inviolate — keep  that  trust  sacred. 
I  am  agitated  by  no  such  womanly  curiosity  as  would 
prompt  me  to  trifle  with  the  lives  of  brave  and  noble  men. 
I  can  await  my  time." 

"Magnanimous  girl!"  exclaimed  Ashford,  admiringly, 


MOUNT     HOPE.  211 

"1  am  but  two  unworthy  of  thee !  But  you  seem  ill ;  and 
for  the  last  two  or  three  weeks  I  have  marked  or  fancied 
that  I  saw  the  roses  withering  from  your  cheek.  Surely, 
this  house,  protected  by  your  lover  and  inhabited  by  your 
uncle,  is  not  dull  and  lonely  to  you  ?" 

"No,  not  dull,  not  lonely:  and  yet  its  roof,  like  your 
own  heart,  seems  to  hide  a  strange,  deep  mystery,  that  I 
have  tried  in  vain  to  fathom.  I  sometimes  almost  doubt 
my  own  bodily  existence,  and  seem  no  longer  in  a  world 
of  material  forms."  *':•>••*.;. 

"Why-^-explain,  I  entreat  you,  what  you  mean." 
"I  will  do  so.  Our  host,  Mr.  Russell,  has  frequent  and 
private  communications  with  my  uncle  upon  some  subject 
that  seems  to  haunt  the  minds  of  both,  and  is  seldom  visible 
except  at  our  meals.  He  is  gloomy  and  reserved  to  a 
painful  degree,  and  has  so  imbued  the  spirit  of  my  uncle 
with  the  same  sentiment,  that  often-times  his  very  presence 
is  chilling  to  me.  You  must  know  that  my  sleeping  apart 
ment  is  in  the  south-easterly  chamber,  and  looks  off  upon 
the  river.  '  For  several  nights  past  I  have  heard,  at  a  late 
hour,  dead,  smothered  voices,  as  of  several  persons  in  con 
versation,  that  seemed  to  arise  out  of  the  earth.  Perhaps 
the  adventures  that  I  have  been  compelled  to  share  for  the 
last  winter  have  unsettled  my  nerves,  and  predisposed  me 
to  alarm ;  but  certain  it  is,  that  my  sleep  has  been  troubled 
and  broken  to  such  a  degree  as  to  impair  my  health.  Still, 
I  might  have  persuaded  myself  that  1  was  under  the  influ 
ence  of  a  strong  mental  excitement,  bordering  upon  delusion, 
but  for  the  experience  of  last  night.  I  had  retired  late  to 
my  room,  and,  as  the  evening  was  warm,  had  lingered,  I 
cannot  say  how  long,  to  look  out  upon  the  tranquil  flow  of 
the  river,  that  seems  to  wind  almost  beneath  my  window, 
before  betaking  myself  to  my  couch.  The  very  presenti- 


212  MOUNT     HOPE. 

ment  that  I  should  not  sleep,  had  protracted  my  stay  at  the 
window  to  an  unusually  late  hour.  I  had  just  composed 
myself  to  sleep,  when  I  was  startled  by  a  scream  that 
seemed  to  penetrate  the  very  timbers  of  the  building.  At 
first,  I  tried  to  convince  myself  that  it  was  a  dream,  and  it 
was  with  a  kind  of  pleasure  that  I  recollected  that  the  odious 
features  of  Randolph  had  just  seemed  to  hover  over  me, 
and  melt  into  the  moonlight  that  rested  upon  the  floor  as  I 
awoke.  But  the  cry  was  soon  repeated,  with  such  shrill, 
piercing  tones,  as  I  could  have  fancied  delirium  would  have 
chosen  to  express  the  ravings  of  its  wildest  agony.  I  arose, 
and  placed  my  ear  to  the  wall,  and  could  hear  the  same 
stifled  voices  which  I  had  heard  on  the  preceding  evening, 
but  with  more  distinctness.  They  now  appeared  to  come 
from  an  adjoining  room  in  the  same  story  with  my  own 
chamber,  and  I  fancied  that  I  could  distinguish  that  of  my 
uncle  and  Mr.  Russell,  together  with  a  third,  that  spoke  in 
deep,  soothing  accents,  as  if  to  lull  the  fears  of  a  child  that 
had  been  suddenly  startled  from  its  slumbers." 

"Was  the  cry  that  of  a  child?" 

"  Oh,  no :  it  was  a  man's  voice — a  fearful,  unearthly  cry, 
followed  by  hollow  moanings,  as  if  the  voice  had  proceeded 
from  the  depths  of  a  sepulchre.  I  shall  hear  it  till  the  day 
of  my  death  ringing  in  my  ears." 

"It  is  strange!"  said  Ashford,  thoughtfully — "strange 
indeed :  I  would  I  could  fathom  the  mystery !  Would  it 
not  be  well  to  make  inquiry  of  Mr.  Southworth  if  he  has 
heard  or  knows  aught  of  it?  If  he  is  in  any  way  privy  to 
it,  we  shall  be  assured  that  it  cannot  be  connected  with 
cruelty  or  wrong." 

"I  did  this  morning  allude  to  it,  as  if  by  accident;  but  he 
started,  as  if  from  a  dream,  and  then  replied,  with  his  finger 
on  his  lip,  that  it  were  best  not  to  inquire  further  into  it,  or 


MOUNT     HOPE.  213 

let  Mr.  Russell  learn,  either  from  word  or  manner,  what  I 
had  heard. — But  I  hear  footsteps;  and,  hark!  a  knock  at 
the  hall-door !  There  is  no  servant  stirring  to  answer  the 
summons,  and  I  am  ashamed  to  confess  that  I  tremble  too 
violently  to  carry  a  light  with  a  steady  hand." 

"You  are  indeed  pale,"  said  her  lover;  at  the  same  time 
taking  up  the  lamp,  and  passing  into  the  hall. 

In  a  moment  he  returned  with  a  sealed  letter  in  his  hand. 
Replacing  the  lamp  upon  the  table,  he  help  the  epistle  near 
it,  and  carefully  examined  the  direction  and  the  seal. 

"It  is  the  Winthrop  seal,"  said  he  at  length ;  "the  Win- 
throp  seal ;  but  not  the  chirography  of  the  governor." 

Without  seating  himself,  he  broke  the  seal ;  and  while 
he  read  it,  the  young  lady  carefully  scrutinized  his  features. 

She  was  the  first  to  break  silence.  "  I  perceive  by  the 
change  that  has  come  over  your  countenance,  that  this  letter 
is  the  bearer  of  evil  tidings." 

"Yes,  it  is  an  evil  messenger,  in  more  senses  than  one. 
It  informs  me  of  the  dangerous  illness  of  Governor  Win 
throp,  and  summons  me  to  his  bedside.  It  states  that  there 
is  intelligence  in  his  possession  which  must  be  buried  in  the 
grave  with  him,  unless  breathed  in  my  ear — intelligence 
which  I  must  lose  no  time  in  obtaining.  What  am  I  to  do? 
I  can  never  think  of  leaving  you  in  this  disturbed  state  of 
mind?" 

"  You  are  to  set  off  instantly,"  replied  Anne,  rising  and 
advancing  towards  him,  her  cheeks  flushed  with  the  high 
spirit  of  which  he  had  more  than  once  witnessed  the  exhibi 
tion,  while  her  eye  suddenly  lighted  up  with  a  warm,  enthu 
siastic  glow.  "  Go,  leave  me,  I  entreat — I  implore  you,  go. 
Never  shall  it  be  said  that  I  stood  between  you  and  your 
duty.  I  am  strong  in  nerve,  and  steady  in  eye  as  yourself. 
I  have  forgotten  that  I  ever  felt  the  palpitation  of  a  woman's 
fear  in  my  bosom." 


214  MOUNT     HOPE. 

Ashford  fixed  his  eye  on  her  scrutinizingly,  as  if  to  see 
whether  her  looks  and  language  could  be  any  thing  more 
than  the  expression  of  a  sudden  impulse,  that  would  "sub 
side  the  moment  after  his  departure.  But  the  beautiful 
features  were  eloquent  with  a  proud,  self-denying  heroism, 
that  left  him  not  a  moment  in  doubt  how  unalterable  was 
her  resolve. 

Still  he  lingered.  The  wild  story  that  she  had  scarcely 
finished  relating,  did  not  rivet  him  to  the  spot,  for  this 
might  be  accounted  for,  as  she  herself  suggested,  in  various 
ways.  But  the  thought  that  she  had  been  once  exposed  to 
the  horrors  of  captivity,  and  the  recollection  that  danger  had 
been  for  some  weeks  apprehended  from  the  same  quarter, 
fell  with  a  crushing  weight  upon  his  mind. 

Her  quick  eye  saw  his  emotion,  but  no  sign  of  relenting 
at  the  hard  doom  of  banishment  which  she  had  pronounced 
upon  him,  shone  in  its  .dark  depths. 

"  As  I  have  ever  told  thee,  God  will  take  care  of  the 
orphan :  linger  not,"  were  her  only  words. 

He  took,  the  hand  that  she  extended  to  him,  pressed  it  to 
his  heart,  covered  her  forehead  with  kisses,  and  retired. 


MOUNT     HO  P  E  .  215 


CHAPTER    XXII.     ;> 

"The  fire  that  burned  so  brightly  to  our  wish, 
Where  is  it  now?    Deserted  on  the  beach, 
Its  sparks  extinct — nov  shall  the  fanning  breeze 
Revive  its  ashos."— WOJRDSWORTH. 

THE  clear  April  evening  was  illuminated  with  all  the 
stars  that  ever  glistened  in  the  northern  heavens,  as  Ashford 
spurred  his  jaded  steed  along  the  peninsula  upon  which 
Boston,  then  just  beginning  .to  give  promise  of  its  future 
magnificence,  sent  its  few  straggling  rays  of  light  from  the 
windows  that  gleamed  behind  the  branches  of  the  oak  and 
elm.  Our  traveller  had  ridden  hard  during  the  whole  day, 
and  for  the  last  dozen  miles  had  urged  his  horse  more  than 
at  any  previous  stage  of  his  journey ;  for  as  he  neared  the 
place  of  his  destination,  the  fear  that  he  might  only  arrive 
in  time  to  find  that  the  lips  of  the  sufferer  were  sealed  in 
death,  made  the  fastest  pace  seem  slow  and  toilsome.  It 
was  nearly  nine  o'clock  when  he  found  himself  for  the  sec 
ond  time  standing  at  the  door  of  the  venerable  old  mansion, 
endeared  to  him  by  the  most  affectionate  remembrances. 

The  same  Indian  servant  who  had  ushered  him  into  the 
study  of  the  governor  on  a  former  occasion  soon  appeared, 
and  motioned  him  to  follow.  As  he  passed  through  the 
hall,  he  saw  several  persons  of  both  sexes — some  sitting, 
others  standing,  and  all  wearing  the  expression  of  the  most 
profound  grief.  They  raised  their  eyes  as  he  entered; 
and  as  he  was  beginning  to  ascend  the  stairs,  a  tall,  thin 
man,  whom  he  immediately  conjectured  to  be  one  of  the 


216  MOUNT    HOPE. 

attending  physicians,  rose,  beckoned  him  to  pause,  and 
advanced  towards  him. 

"Pardon  me,"  said  the  physician,  in  a  whisper,  "but 
you  must  have  mistaken  the  house,  or  perhaps  you  have 
not  heard  that  his  excellency  even  now  lies  at  death's 
door." 

Without  replying  a  word,  Ashford  drew  from  his  pocket 
the  epistle  which  had  summoned  him  to  this  house  of  sor 
row,  and  placed  it  in  the  hands  of  the  challenger.  He 
glanced  over  it  hastily,  muttering,  as  if  to  himself,  "It  is 
the  self-same  that  I  wrote  with  my  own  hand:  I  doubt 
much  if  the  hours  of  business  be  not  over  with  him,  but 
I  know  well  it  is  a  thing  which  his  excellency  had  much 
at  heart,"  he  led  the  way  to  the  chamber  of  the  invalid.  A 
silver  lamp  stood  burning  upon  a  small  table  in  one  corner  of 
the  room,  placed  at  some  distance  from  the  bed,  and  shaded 
by  a  silken  screen.  Ashford  stopped  near  the  door,  while 
the  doctor  walked  gently  up  to  the  bed-side,  and  whispered 
something  in  the  ear  of  his  patient. 

"By  all  means,  introduce  him  instantly,"  answered  the 
sick  man,  in  a  voice  enfeebled  indeed  by  disease,  but  still 
retaining  its  silvery  accents  of  mild  authority.  The  phy 
sician  motioned  to  Ashford  to  approach  the  couch.  The 
venerable  statesman,  with  that  sweet  expression  and  benig 
nant  smile  that  had  bound  so  many  hearts  indissolubly  to 
him,  both  in  Europe  and  America,  extended  his  hand  to  his 
visiter ;  and  then,  again  addressing  the  doctor,  said,  "  Leave 
me,  sir,  and  close  the  door ;  I  have  something  to  communi 
cate  to  my  young  friend  here  which  I  would  not  have 
overheard." 

As  soon  as  they  were  left  alone,  the  governor  requested 
Ashford  to  assist  him  in  raising  himself  in  the  bed,  so  that 
he  could  converse  with  greater  ease.  "You  remember 


MOUNT     HOPE.  217 

the  short  interview  I  had  with  you  about  ten  months  ago, 
Mr.  Ashford,"  said  he,  languidly,  when  this  was  done,  "and 
I  remember  the  faithfulness  with  which  you  executed  my 
mission ;  nor  have  I  forgotten  what  I  have  since  heard  of 
your  valour  and  fidelity  to  the  colonies.  You  are  a  man  of 
honourable  feelings,  and  I  know  that  I  can  confide  in  you ; 
but  yet  I  would  fain  know,  first  of  all,  what  are  your  political 
sentiments :  in  other  words,  are  you  a  loyalist,  or  an  adher 
ent  to  the  principles  of  the  Protector?" 

"I  am  disposed  to  abide  by  the  established  order  of 
things  in  England,  sir;  but  I  do  not  scruple  to  confess  that 
my  predilections  are  with  the  adherents  of  Cromwell." 

"It  is  well ;  I  had  hoped  as  much.  Now  to  business,  for 
my  strength  may  be  less  than  I  could  have  wished.  You 
know  the  position  that  I  have  occupied  in  Connecticut,  the 
colony  that  still  calls  me  its  executive  head,  and  the  neces 
sities  under  which  I  have  been  compelled  to  act.  The  ruling 
monarch  is  quick  and  irascible,  surrounded  by  advisers 
not  disposed  to  favour  the  colonies.  He  is  not  naturally, 
were  he  left  to  himself,  either  cruel  or  vindictive.  In  short, 
for  the  good  of  the  people  who  have  established  civil  liberty 
in  the  new  world,  I  have  been  forced  to  yield  to  many 
unreasonable  demands,  for  the  sake  of  peace.  In  this  way 
I  have  been  able  to  avail  with  him,  when,  by  adopting  a 
different  course,  I  should  have  brought  disaster  upon  the 
country  of  my  adoption.  But,  of  all  the  concessions  that  I 
have  ever  made  to  the  executive  will,  none  has  ever  so 
much  disturbed  my  peace  of  mind  as  the  part  which  I 
ostensibly  took  in  aiding  in  the  service  of  the  executive 
warrant  against  Whalley  and  Goffe,  sometimes  called  the 
regicides,  who  were  charged  with  high-treason.  They 
were  long  my  personal  friends — men  of  the  rarest  virtue, 
of  the  highest  order  of  mental  powers  that  distinguished 

19 


218  MOUNT     HOPE. 

and  gave  light  and  glory  to  the  brilliant  reign  of  the  Pro 
tector,  and  of  a  martial  skill  and  courage  seldom  equalled 
in  any  age  of  the  world.  I  have  carefully  examined  the 
part  they  acted  in  the  trial  of  Charles  Stuart,  and  am  con 
vinced  that,  whether  they  were  labouring  under  a  delusion 
or  not,  they  acted  honestly,  and  in  the  fear  of  God.  I  issued 
proclamations  to  aid  in  their  apprehension ;  but,  I  confess 
it,  I  secretly  hoped  and  prayed  all  the  while  that  those 
proclamations  would  be  unavailing.  They  knew  my  mo 
tives,  and  set  a  just  estimate  upon  my  actions.  Nay,  I  am 
convinced  that,  rather  than  that  the  cause  which  they  had 
expended  their  youth  and  manhood  in  serving  should  have 
suffered,  they  would  cheerfully  have  abandoned  their  con 
cealment,  and  submitted  their  heads  to  the  block.  They 
are  now  in  solitude,  little  better  than  imprisonment;  they 
are  now  in  this  colony,  and  in  danger  more  imminent  than 
has  ever  been  incident  to  their  condition  since  they  set  foot 
upon  this  continent." 

"Whalley  and  Goffe  in  America?"  interrupted  Ashford. 
"Is  it  possible  that  such  an  event  could  have  transpired, 
and  I — nay,  let  me  rather  say  the  vigilance  of  their  pur 
suers — be  ignorant  of  it  ?" 

"It  is  indeed  true.  But  my  pulse  grows  feebler;  let  me 
go  on.  There  has  been  hovering  about  our  coast,  for  many 
months,  a  bird  of  evil  omen — a  vampire  in  human  shape — 
one  Edward  Randolph,  whose  sole  business  it  is  to  vex  and 
harass  the  colonies,  cripple  their  commercial  rights,  and 
abridge  their  social  and  civil  immunities.  Among  other 
burdens  of  mischief  with  which  his  fruitful  mind  is  charged, 
is  the  determination — partly  from  motives  of  personal 
aggrandizement,  and  partly  from  a  preconceived  hatred  of 
the  men — to  search  out  and  apprehend  the  regicides.  He 
does  not  know  my  own  private  views,  and  has  made  me 


MOUNT     HOPE.  219 

privy  to  his  plans.  About  the  time  of  my  first  acquaint 
ance  with  you,  he  fell  in  with  General  Goffe,  and  had  a 
personal  encounter  with  him,  in  which  he  was  severely 
wounded.  Knowing  that  I  shared  the  favour  of  the  king, 
he  communicated  the  fact  to  me,  supposing  that  he  might 
find  me  an  ally  in  a  cause  which  he  has  now  the  double 
motive  of  revenge  and  interest  to  consummate.  Imme 
diately  after,  he  left  for  England,  for  the  express  purpose 
of  procuring  a  commission  to  arrest  the  fugitives.  Not  a 
week  ago,  I  received  a  letter  from  him,  stating  that  he  had 
procured  the  royal  warrant,  and  would  be  in  America 
before  the  middle  of  August.  I  repeat,  that  they  are  in 
deadly  peril,  so  long  as  they  remain  in  America.  Ran 
dolph  is  not  the  man  to  relinquish  an  object,  when  once  he 
has  turned  his  eye  towards  it.  There  is  not  a  cavern  in 
the  earth,  a  crevice  in  the  rocks,  where  they  can  safely 
hide ;  even  their  bones,  were  they  mouldering  in  the  soil 
of  the  most  secluded  glen,  would  be  unearthed  from  their 
graves,  and  dragged  on  hurdles  to  Tyburn.  Remember 
Oliver  Cromwell !  I  say,  the  very  waters  of  our  rivers 
would  be  swept  with  nets  and  grapnels  to  fish  up  their 
dead  bodies  from  their  deep  concealment.  I  am  a  phy 
sician  as  well  as  a  statesman,  my  young  friend,  and  can 
feel  within  me  the  many  indications  known  to  our  mystery 
that  point  to  dissolution.  The  pulses  that  seem,  rather  from 
habit  than  from  any  hold  they  have  upon  the  secret  springs 
of  vitality,  to  keep  up  their  intermitting  play,  are  even 
now,  while  I  speak,  beating  their  last  faint  call  to  summon 
me  to  another  sphere  of  duties,  which  I  trust  will  not  be 
uncongenial  to  me.  The  house  which  I  have  reared,  the 
trees  in  which  I  have  embowered  it,  the  people  whose  con 
fidence  has  awakened  so  often  the  glow  of  gratitude  in  my 
breast — the  colony,  with  its  winding  river  and  goodly  yeo- 


220  MOUNT     HOPE. 

manry,  which  I  have  loved  more  than  all  other  things  save 
the  communion  of  the  saints  which  I  am  about  to  share — 
the  domestic  circle,  endeared  to  me  by  more  associations 
than  falls  to  the  lot  of  most  men — will  in  a  few  days  be  to 
me  no  more.  All  earthly  affairs  are  as  nothing.  Yet  I 
have  felt  that  I  could  not  lay  my  head  in  the  earth  by  the 
side  of  my  honoured  father,  without  performing  this  act  of 
justice,  due  to  early  friendship — that  the  venerable  old  men 
whom  I  have  committed  to  your  hands  should  not  go  un 
warned.  Protect  them,  counsel  them,  assist  them  to  flee  ; 
or,  if  no  other  land  will  afford  them  a  more  secure  retreat, 
hide  them  as  best  you  may  from  the  eyes  of  their  pursuers." 

So  animated  and  lost  in  the  enthusiasm  of  the  moment 
was  the  venerable  statesman,  that  he  did  not  feel  that  he  had 
overtaxed  his  powers,  nor  did  he  perceive  the  change  that 
had  passed  over  the  features  of  his  visiter  as  he  had  pro 
ceeded  in  his  narrative. 

Ashford  clenched  his  hands  in  very  agony.  It  was  not 
until  after  several  moments  that  his  strong  will  prevailed 
over  the  contending  emotions  that  agitated  him.  Mastering 
his  feelings  by  a  powerful  effort,  he  replied,  "I  have  a 
motive  weightier  than  that  which  binds  me  to  life,  to  be 
faithful  to  the  trust.  But  where  am  1  to  find  these  myste 
rious  men?" 

"  On  that  table  you  will  find  a  letter,  directing  you  to 
one  who  was  and  I  believe  still  must  be  in  the  secret. 

When  Ashford  had  taken  the  letter,  and  placed  it  in  his 
pocket,  the  dying  man  went  on : 

"  There  is  one  other  charge  with  which  I  must  burden 
you.  Take  the  purse  of  gold  that  you  will  find  under  my 
pillow.  It  contains  a  hundred  guineas,  and  a  manuscript 
letter  from  the  great  Milton,  exhorting  these  unhappy  men 
to  keep  a  good  heart,  and  persevere  unto  the  end.  Present 


MOUNT     HOPE.  221 

these  little  mementoes  to  the  exiles  in  my  name,  and  tell 
them  I  died  in  hope.  For  yourself,  take  this  ring  from  me, 
and  wear  it  for  my  sake.  It  has  graced  the  finger  of  a 
monarch  in  whose  favour  I  have  long  participated ;  wear  it 
as  a  gift  from  me,  and  as  a  .warning  not  to  cherish  political 
animosities  against  a  sovereign — who,  whatever  his  faults, 
is  the  anointed  of  Heaven.  Farewell!" 

As  he  concluded,  he  fell  back  upon  the  couch  exhausted, 
and  had  barely  strength  to  extend  his  wasted  hand  to  Ash- 
ford  ;  and  smiled,  but  more  faintly  than  at  the  commence 
ment  of  their  interview,  as  he  marked  the  tears  which 
streamed  unbidden  down  the  cheek  of  the  young  privateer. 

Ashford  left  the  apartment  with  a  heavy  heart,  and 
returned  to  his  lodgings.  In  the  morning,  as  he  rode  out 
of  the  city,  just  as  the  rising  sun  began  to  gild  the  dew- 
drops  that  hung  upon  the  trees,  his  ear  was  startled  by  the 
tolling  of  a  bell. 

He  counted  the  strokes,  as  one  by  one  they  trembled 
through  the  clear  air,  until  they  reached  seventy-one.     His 
conjectures  were  but  too  true.     The  statesman,  the  scholar, 
the  patriot,  the  Christian  was  no  more. 
19* 


222  MOUNT     HOPE. 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

"Let  me  not  burst  in  ignorance."— Hamlet. 

IT  was  with  an  aching  heart  that  Ashford  neared  the 
little  peninsula  where  the  village  of  Hadley  seemed  to  rise, 
with  its  slender  spire  and  primitive  dwellings,  from  the 
very  waters  of  the  river  that  almost  embraced  it.  He 
looked  until  his  eyes  were  weary  for  the  turn  in  the  road  at 
the  hill-top,  just  where  it  emerged  from  the  forest ;  and  when 
at  length  he  reached  it,  and  looked  off  upon  the  village,  and 
saw  that  it  was  standing  among  its  old  trees,  safe  from  the 
attacks  of  the  enemy  as  when  he  left  it,  he  reined  in  his 
horse,  and  gazed  upon  it  as  if  it  had  been  his  heaven. 
There  was  the  parsonage,  with  its  two  sweeping  elms  in 
front  and  its  lawn  of  apple-trees  in  the  rear,  unharmed  as 
when  he  had  looked  back  upon  it  two  days  before — looked 
back  upon  it  with  a  shudder,  as  he  thought  upon  the  possi 
bility  that  he  might  find  it  on  his  return  a  mass  of  stones 
and  ashes.  Never  had  it  looked  so  lovely  as  now.  His 
mind  now  more  at  ease,  he  bethought  him  of  the  painful 
scene  that  he  just  witnessed,  and  remembered  that,  in  the 
whirl  of  his  own  emotions,  he  had  forgotten  to  examine 
even  the  address  of  the  letter  that  had  been  committed  to 
his  care.  He  drew  it  from  his  waistcoat,  and  saw  to  his 
delight  that  it  was  designed  for  the  hand  of  Mr.  Russell. 
He  replaced  it  in  his  pocket,  and  plunging  the  spurs  deep 
into  his  horse's  sides,  hurried  on  with  a  new  impulse. 

On  arriving  at  the  parsonage,  he  found  Miss  Willoughby 


MOUNT    HOPE.  223 

in  the  parlour,  and  was  rejoiced  to  see  in  the  smile  that 
lighted  up  her  features  that  her  mind  was  more  tranquil 
than  it  had  been  for  several  weeks,  and  that  her  health 
was  evidently  improved.  It  was  now  his  turn  to  be  sub. 
jected  to  apprehensions  that  evinced  themselves  too  plainly 
to  escape  her  notice. 

"I  observe,"  she  said,  "that  there  is  a  struggle  going  on 
in  your  mind  that  may  relate  to  circumstances  growing 
out  of  your  interview  with  the  governor,  and  may  perhaps 
be  connected  with  your  absent  parent.  Your  eye  seems 
lost  in  contemplation  of  some  subject,  concerning  which 
we  have  no  mutual  understanding.  I  trust  you  have  heard 
nothing  relative  to  him  that  need  excite  alarm." 

I  have  indeed  heard  news  of  my  venerable  father,  which, 
now  I  have  assured  myself  of  your  safety,  is  of  a  nature 
that  may  well  alarm  me.  I  shall  soon  be  able  to  explain 
all.  At  present,  I  am  like  a  traveller  who  has  lost  his  way 
in  the  mazes  of  a  forest,  and  only  changes  his  course  to 
find  himself  the  more  bewildered  as  he  plods  desperately 
on.  But  I  do  not  despair.  Though  distressed  at  what  I 
have  recently  heard,  it  has  rather  encouraged  than  dis 
heartened  me.  Where  is  Mr.  Russell  1  It  is  of  the  high 
est  importance  that  I  should  see  him  to  night." 

"  I  heard  him  walking  in  the  library  just  before  you 
arrived,"  replied  Miss  Willoughby  ;  at  the  same  time  walk 
ing  across  the  room,  and  knocking  gently  at  the  door  of  a 
room  adjoining  the  parlour.  A  slow,  deliberate  step  was 
heard,  and  then  the  door  opened,  and  the  proprietor  of  the 
mansion  made  his  appearance.  "Mr.  Ashford  desires  a 
short  conference  with  you,  sir,"  said  the  young  lady,  as 
she  withdrew  to  the  library  which  the  clergyman  had 
just  left. 

Bowing  formally  to  his  visiter,  and  wishing  him  "  a  good 


224  MOUNT    HOPE. 

evening,"  in  a  tone  that  seemed  to  signify  that  he  hoped  the 
interruption  might  be  as  brief  as  possible,  Russell  remained 
standing  to  receive  his  communication.  He  was  a  tall,  thin 
man,  somewhat  past  middle-life,  with  a  grave  countenance, 
pale,  rather  sallow  complexion,  and  deep-set,  cavernous 
eyes.  The  expression  of  the  face,  the  perfect  immobility 
of  its  features,  was  forbidding,  and  little  calculated  to 
inspire  the  mind  of  a  stranger  with  confidence.  Yet  no  one 
who  looked  upon  him  could  doubt  that  he  was  the  pos 
sessor  of  strong  and  well-developed  intellectual  powers, 
though,  from  the  wrinkle  that  must  have  been  for  years 
contracting  upon  his  forehead,  so  as  almost  to  hide  the  eye 
beneath  the  long  gray  eyebrow,  as  well  as  from  the  com 
pression  of  the  mouth,  those  powers  were  obviously  of  the 
stern  and  controversial  kind. 

"  My  business  with  you,  sir,  is  of  a  secret  nature,  and 
one  which  intimately  concerns  my  own  destiny.  I  believe 
your  fortunes  are  also  in  some  way  wrapped  up  in  it,"  said 
Ashford,  introducing  the  conversation. 

"Destiny  and  fortune  are  words  with  which  the  believer 
who  is  skilled  in  the  doctrines  of  the  Word  has  little  sym 
pathy,"  replied  the  clergyman,  adjusting  his  band.  "I 
must  beg  of  you,  young  gentleman,  if  you  have  aught  to 
say  to  me,  not  to  talk  in  riddles,  nor  after  the  manner  of  the 
fatalists." 

Ashford  felt  his  blood  rising  at  this  rebuke ;  but  feeling 
the  necessity  of  gaining  the  good-will  of  the  person  who  so 
solemnly  administered  it,  he  replied  gently,  at  the  same 
time  delivering  the  epistle  of  Winthrop  into  the  hands  of 
the  clergyman,  "It  is  the  disposition  of  Providence,  and  the 
net  of  circumstances  that  he  has  thrown  around  me ;  but 
this  may  explain  my  situation  better  than  any  language  of 
my  own." 


MOUNT     HOPE.  225 

"  I  could  well  hope  that  thou  art  correct  in  the  funda 
mentals  of  our  faith,"  said  Mr.  Russell,  with  evident  change 
of  manner,  when  he  had  once  glanced  at  the  seal.  "Be 
pleased  to  be  seated  while  I  peruse  this  letter.  It  seems  to 
come  from  a  source  that  should  command  my  attention." 

He  put  on  his  spectacles,  and  seated  himself  at  the  table, 
at  the  same  time  turning  his  face  from  the  eyes  of  Ashford. 
After  spending  nearly  a  quarter  of  an  hour  in  mastering  its 
contents,  during  which  time  he  might  have  read  it  over 
times  enough  to  commit  to  memory  every  word  contained 
in  it,  he  took  off  his  spectacles,  replaced  them  in  the  red 
morocco  case  that  lay  upon  the  table,  and,  turning  around, 
fixed  his  eye  keenly  upon  Ashford,  as  if  he  would  have 
probed  his  inmost  soul.  At  length  he  said,  slowly,  "Young 
gentleman,  dost  thou  know  aught  of  the  contents  of  this 
manuscript  ?" 

"  I  have  never  read  it,  sir,"  responded  Ashford.    • 

"Dost  thou  know  aught  of  its  contents?"  reiterated 
Russell,  in  the  tone  of  a  man  who  expects  an  unequivocal 
answer. 

"I  think  I  do,  sir." 

"  Have  the  goodness  to  repeat  them  to  me,  and  tell  me, 
at  the  same  time,  how  this  epistle  fell  into  thy  hands." 

Ashford  related,  as  nearly  as  he  could,  what  he  supposed 
must  be  the  substance  of  the  letter,  and  recited  at  length 
the  details  of  his  interview  with  its  author.  As  he  did  so, 
the  clergyman  walked  slowly  to  and  fro  across  the  room 
without  seeming  once  to  turn  his  eyes  from  the  face  of  the 
narrator. 

"It  is  an  unaccountable  story,"  muttered  Russell,  rather 
to  himself  than  to  Ashford,  when  the  latter  had  concluded, 
"an  unaccountable  story.  And  I  cannot  understand,  Mr. 
Ashford,  how  it  is  that  the  great  and  good  man  whose  seal 


226  MOUNT    HOPE. 

is  stamped  upon  this  paper  should  have  been  ill  and  in 
articulo  mortis — that  is  as  to  say,  at  the  point  of  death — 
and  I  remain  ignorant  of  it.  It  is  not  two  weeks  since  I 
heard  from  him,  and  no  such  intimation  was  made  to  me. 
There  is  another  part  of  this  affair  which  I  cannot  compre 
hend,  to  wit :  how  or  from  what  motive  he  should  make  you 
his  confidant  touching  these  matters  of  the  exiled  judges,  if" 
— he  added,  hypothetically — "if,  indeed,  any  one  of  those 
proscribed  men  ever  sought  an  asylum  in  this  country." 

Ashford  explained  to  him,  as  well  as  he  was  able,  the 
confidence  that  had  been  before  placed  in  him  by  Win- 
throp  ;  adding,  that  he  doubted  not  that  the  near  approach 
of  death  had  impelled  his  excellency  to  a  course  that  might 
at  another  time  have  been  imprudent. 

"How  say  you,  the  near  approach  of  death?  You  do 
not  mean  to  have  me  understand  that  his  disease  is  likely 
to  terminate  fatally  ?" 

"He  is  already  dead,  Mr.  Russell." 

Russell  stared  at  him  with  an  expression  of  absolute 
incredulity. 

"Your  look  implies  that  you  doubt  my  word,"  said  Ash- 
ford  bitterly. 

"It  is  no  province  of  mine  to  doubt  the  word  of  any 
man,  Mr.  Ashford.  But  evidence,  sir,  in  all  worldly 
matters :  I  shall  be  governed  by  evidence  and  presumptions 
that  amount  to  occular  demonstration.  I  cannot  think  that 
Governor  Winthrop  is  dead.  There  must  be  some  mis 
take  about  this  part  at  least  of  your  relation.  Have  you 
any  thing  else  to  add  to  what  you  have  already  said  ?" 

Immediately  Ashford  bethought  himself  of  the  purse. 

The  inflexible  puritan  took  it  quickly  from  his  hand,  and 
examined  first  the  gold  and  then  the  letter.  "  This  epistle 
purports  to  be  the  chirography  of  the  Latin  Secretary  to 


MOUNT     HOPE.  227 

the  late  Protector,  Mr.  John  Milton,  and,  if  genuine,  is 
worthy  of  consideration.  But  I  know  not  his  hand- writing. 
I  do  know  that  the  one  that  bears  the  Winthrop  seal  is  not 
the  hand-writing  of  the  governor." 

"It  was,  as  he  himself  informed  me,  written  by  the  hand 
of  a  friend,  during  his  sickness." 

"  Have  you  any  other  token  that  you  choose  to  exhibit 
tome?" 

Ashford  extended  his  hand  with  the  ring  glittering  upon 
his  finger.  "Have  you  ever  seen  Governor  Winthrop 
wear  this  diamond?  He  gave  it  me  when  I  took  my  last 
leave  of  him." 

"  I  have  seen  some  such  ornament  upon  his  finger.  But 
my  business  is  with  jewels  that  do  not  perish  with  the 
using.  Sir,  I  cannot  identify  it." 

"  Then  I  have  exhausted  my  little  stock  of  credentials 
without  effect,"  said  Ashford,  folding  his  hands  despairingly. 
"Oh,  sir!  if  you  but  knew  how  much  dearer  to  me  than 
to  you — than  to  all  the  world  else — is  the  safety  of  the  men 
of  whose  fate  you  persist  in  keeping  me  ignorant,  I  know 
how  your  kind  heart  would  relent!  But  you  have,  I  doubt 
not,  been  practised  upon  by  some  villain  ere  this,  and  have 
learned  to  doubt  the  whole  world  on  this  vitally  important 
matter.  But  mark,  sir,  what  I  tell  you :  I  am  not  the  man 
to  betray  an  honest  confidence :  and  bethink,  I  beseech 
you,  should  those  unprotected  men  fall  into  the  hands  of 
their  enemies,  what  a  weight  of  responsibility  will  rest 
upon  your  head." 

"What  interest  so  deep  can  you  have  in  their  fate?" 

"  That  interest  is  a  secret  that  I  dare  not  disclose." 

"Neither  will  I  disclose  mine,  if  I  am  possessed  of  any." 
And  the  inexorable  colonist  bowed,  and  retreated  to  his 
study,  leaving  Ashford  to  await  the  return  of  a  more  com 
municative  companion. 


228  MOUNT     HOPE. 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

"Go  on— I'll  follow  thee!"— SHAKS. 

SPRING  glided  rapidly  on,  the  foliage  gradually  expanded 
upon  the  trees,  the  wild  flowers  opened  their  petals  to  the 
sun  that  every  day  added  a  new  triumph  to  the  ascendancy 
that  March  and  April  had  began  to  establish  over  the  domain 
of  winter,  but  Ashford  still  sought  in  vain  the  hiding-place 
of  the  regicides.  Whatever  subject  forms  the  principal 
theme  of  contemplation  for  an  ardent  mind,  in  most  instan 
ces  sooner  or  later  becomes  its  master.  It  was  emphatic 
ally  so  with  Ashford.  Sleeping  or  waking,  the  mystery 
that  hung  like  an  impenetrable  cloud  over  the  unhappy 
exiles — the  danger  that  threatened  them,  the  interest  that 
he  felt  in  them — haunted  him  by  night  and  day,  and  threw 
a  shadow  over  even  the  brightest  anticipations  that  hope 
prefigures  to  the  eyes  of  him  who  loves.  It  was  in  vain 
that  he  exhausted  every  expedient  to  gain  the  ear  of  Russell, 
and  inspire  him  with  confidence.  The  uncompromising 
Puritan  was  blind  to  every  demonstration  of  proof — deaf 
to  every  entreaty.  He  even  avoided  the  very  sight  of  the 
suppliant,  as  if  his  importunities  had  been  the  unpardonable 
sin,  and  his  presence  polluting  as  that  of  a  leper.  In  the 
several  interviews  that  they  had  upon  the  subject,  not  a 
glance  of  his  eye,  not  a  quiver  of  his  thin  lip,  not  a  word, 
betrayed  or  pointed  by  any  intimation  to  his  knowledge  of 
the  men  who  had  been  sheltered  beneath  his  roof,  and 
shared  his  unwearied  hospitality  for  so  many  years.  Stern 


MOUNT     HOPE.  229 

and  cold  in  his  exterior,  rigid  in  the  discharge  of  his  paro 
chial  duties,  as  an  anchorite  in  the  routine  of  his  solitary 
devotions  in  his  cave  or  by  the  margin  of  his  well ;  to 
these  exiled  men  alone  he  smiled ;  to  them  alone  he  relaxed 
his  bent  and  care-worn  brow.  They  could  scarcely  be 
said  to  have  a  want,  save  that  of  the  freedom  of  the  com- 
mon  air,  enjoyed  by  the  humblest  of  God's  creatures ;  for 
all  their  wishes  were  anticipated  with  a  forethought  that 
seemed  to  be  as  constant  in  its  operations  as  the  mechanical 
laws  of  nature.  All  this  while,  the  citizens  of  his  parish 
were  in  profound  ignorance  of  the  secret  that  slept  in  his 
bosom.  The  Christian  Sabbath  came,  and  invariably  the 
clergyman  was  at  his  place;  the  prayer,  the  hymn,  the 
exhortation  passed  his  lips ;  regularly  during  the  other  six 
days  he  walked  the  rounds  of  his  pastoral  visits  from 
dwelling  to  dwelling,  he  received  the  usual  calls  from  his 
parishioners  during  the  day,  but  at  nightfall  his  doors  were 
closed ;  and  the  few  whom  business  called  to  the  parsonage 
in  the  evening  seldom  ventured  to  inquire  for  their  minister, 
and  none,  except  the  two  or  three  who  were  in  the  secret, 
ever  saw  him  at  such  times  unless  when  they  obtained  an 
occasional  glimpse  of  his  person  as  he  glided  like  a  ghost 
from  one  apartment  to  another.  Even  as  they  passed  by 
the  gate,  and  saw  the  light  of  the  solitary  lamp  that  flick- 
ered  in  the  study,  they  shuddered,  and  quickened  their  pace 
from  some  undefinable  cause  that  they  would  not  whisper 
in  the  ear  of  their  nearest  friend.  The  very  house  seemed 
by  general  consent  to  be  understood  to  be  haunted,  but  none 
ever  breathed  the  suspicion  that  darkened  his  own  mind. 
The  gables  and  nooks  of  the  building,  the  two  elms  with 
their  drooping  branches  almost  intercepting  the  smoke  that 
arose  from  the  rude  stone  chimneys,  were  seen  as  through 
a  veil  that  none  had  the  courage  to  remove,  lest  some  shape 

20 


230  MOUNT     HOPE. 

that  lay  concealed  behind  it  might  start  up  from  its  grim 
retirement.  The  minister  was  feared,  dreaded,  but  not 
beloved.  His  awful  mystery  shut  all  the  avenues  to 
affection. 

The  fort  and  palisades  at  Hadley  had  been,  by  the  direc 
tion  of  Captain  Swain,  who  was  in  command,  and  by  the 
unwearied  assiduity  of  Ashford,  restored  to  their  former 
condition.  Scarcely  were  the  repairs  completed  when  the 
Indians,  to  the  number  of  about  eight  hundred,  made  their 
appearance  in  the  woods  without  the  palisades,  and  began 
to  make  vigorous  preparations  for  an  attack  upon  the  place. 
Jt  was  on  the  night  of  the  llth  of  June  that  they  "approach 
ed  the  town,  laid  an  ambuscade  at  the  southern  extremity, 
and  advanced  their  main  body  towards  the  other"  or  north 
ern  limit. 

Within  the  palisades  all  was  now  bustle  and  preparation. 
Every  citizen  was  placed  on  duty  who  had  sufficient 
strength  to  shoulder  a  musket.  Even  Mr.  Russell  visited 
the  fort  during  the  night,  prayed  with  and  encouraged  the 
men  to  stand  up  boldly  in  defence  of  their  fire-sides  and 
their  helpless  wives  and  children,  Ashford  passed  a  sleep 
less  night,  going  the  rounds  to  see  if  the  sentinels  were  at 
their  posts,  and  placing  his  men  in  the  most  advantageous 
positions  to  repel  the  assaults  of  the  invaders,  which  he 
foresaw  would  be  of  a  fierce  and  bloody  character.  During 
the  whole  night  a  light  was  kept  burning  in  the  library  of 
the  parsonage ;  a  circumstance  so  unusual  as  to  be  noticed 
by  the  citizens;  but  what  construction  they  put  upon  the 
phenomenon  was  not  known,  for  they  never  alluded  to  it 
until  after  the  death  of  Mr.  Russell.  But  to  Ashford  it  had 
a  deep  significance:  again  and  again  he  turned  his  eye 
towards  its  trembling  ray,  as  if  it  had  been  a  newly- 
discovered  star.  His  pulses  throbbed  to  its  influence,  and 


MOUNT     HOPE.  231 

his  heart  beat  quick,  like  the  midnight  drum  that  calls  the 
soldier  to  arms.  It  was  his  beacon,  his  watch-fire,  his  hope. 
He  could  have  knelt  to  it,  as  the  idolatrous  Persian  bows 
his  head  before  the  rising  sun.  He  was  inspired  with  an 
unwonted  energy ;  he  felt  as  if  he  could  have  met  all  the 
Indians  that  swarmed  in  the  woods  around  him,  and  repelled 
their  united  forces  with  the  strength  of  his  single  arm. 

At  length,  as  its  light  began  to  grow  pale  in  the  first  flush 
of  dawn,  the  war-whoop  broke  from  the  heart  of  the  wilder 
ness,  as  if  every  leaf  that  darkened  its  recesses  had  sud 
denly  found  a  voice.  Clear,  unearthly  shrill,  it  pierced  the 
very  heavens,  and  was  the  signal  for  the  onslaught  of  the 
savages.  They  advanced  like  a  black  cloud  upon  the 
northern  extremity  of  the  town,  and  towards  the  very  spot 
where  he  was  stationed  with  a  handful  of  his  trusty  sea- 
boys,  and  about  fifty  of  the  soldiers  of  the  town.  The  pal 
isades,  deeply  imbedded  in  the  earth  as  they  were,  shook  as 
if  they  would  have  fallen  to  the  ground,  as  the  dusky  be 
siegers  thronged  and  pressed  against  them. 

It  seemed  of  no  avail  that  the  guns  of  the  soldiers  were 
pointed  with  the  most  unerring  aim.  The  Indians  replaced 
the  dead  and  wounded  with  fresh  numbers,  and,  in  spite  of 
all  the  efforts  made  by  the  English  to  arrest  their  progress, 
soon  broke  through  the  palisades  in  hundreds,  and  took 
possession  of  a  house  and  barn  that  stood  near  by.  Ash- 
ford  led  on  his  men  to  attack  them  in  their  fortress,  with 
daring  intrepidity,  and  discharged  several  vollies  at  them 
with  considerable  success ;  while  Swain  placed  himself  at 
the  breach  in  the  palisades,  to  hold  those  in  check  who  had 
not  yet  effected  an  entrance ;  but  the  war-whoop  still  sent 
its  summons  to  the  town  with  unabated  fierceness. 

Seeing  that  they  were  making  but  little  impression  on  the 
enemy  with  small  arms,  Ashford  now  pointed  the  only 


232  MOUNT    HOPE. 

piece  of  ordnance  in  his  possession  against  the  house  occu 
pied  by  the  Indians.  This  did  considerable  execution ;  but 
as  the  barn  where  the  Indians  had  effected  a  lodgement 
stood  a  little  to  the  windward  of  the  place  where  the  cannon 
had  been  planted,  the  sagacious  savages  immediately  set 
fire  to  it.  The  smoke  from  the  burning  building  soon 
blinded  the  eyes  of  the  gunner,  and  almost  suffocated  the 
party  who  had  charge  of  it.  The  attack  was  also  now 
renewed  from  several  points  with  great  violence.  The 
English  under  Swain  began  to  yield  ground,  and  fly. 

Just  at  this  crisis,  when  the  village  seemed  doomed  to 
inevitable  destruction,  a  tall,  almost  gigantic  form,  envel 
oped  in  a  military  cloak,  seeming  to  emerge  from  the  very 
flames  that  lit  up  the  battle-field,  glided  rapidly  past  Ash- 
ford,  and  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  the  dispersing  troops. 
As  he  did  so,  his  cloak  fell  from  his  shoulders,  and  dis 
closed  a  pair  of  heavy  brass  pistols  in  his  belt,  and  a  short- 
sword  in  his  right  hand. 

"  Stand  fast,  in  the  name  of  God !"  said  the  apparition, 
in  a  voice  that  rang  like  a  clarion-blast  in  the  clear  morn 
ing  air;  at  the  same  time  raising  his  sword-arm,  while 
the  blade  glittered  in  the  flames  like  a  meteor  above  his 
head — "  Stand  fast !  for  shame  !  As  I  hope  for  salvation 
in  yonder  heaven,  I  will  strike  to  the  earth  the  first  runa 
gate  who  turns  his  back!  To  the  palisades!" 

Had  the  heavens  opened  above  them,  and  an  angel  with 
a  flaming  sword  appeared  in  the  air  marshalling  them  on 
to  battle,  the  soldiery  could  not  have  been  more  astonished 
than  at  the  sight  of  their  deliverer,  and  at  the  sound  of  his 
voice.  More  impetuous  in  their  religious  enthusiasm  than 
the  savages  in  their  native  ferocity,  they  rallied,  and  fol 
lowed  the  mysterious  stranger  against  the  enemy.  He 
seemed  to  bear  a  charmed  life ;  for  wherever  he  went,  the 


MOUNT     HOPE.  233 

tomahawk  fell  powerless,  and  the  arrow  glanced  harmlessly 
aside.  His  keen  blade  cut  its  way  to  the  palisades,  and 
then  exclaiming,  in  the  same  clear  voice  that  arose  dis 
tinctly  above  the  confusion  of  the  conflict,  "  They  fly !  lo, 
they  fly!"  he  turned,  walked  slowly  to  the  place  where 
his  cloak  still  lay  upon  the  ground,  and,  throwing  it  about 
his  shoulders,  withdrew  from  the  field  before  the  confused 
soldiers  were  aware  of  his  disappearance.  Ashford  had 
witnessed  this  singular  spectacle  with  feelings  as  intense, 
but  of  a  totally  different  kind,  as  those  which  agitated  the 
breasts  of  the  soldiers  of  Hadley.  When  he  saw  the  tall 
figure  of  the  stranger  turn,  and  glide  silently  away  from 
the  scene  upon  which  he  had  suddenly  appeared,  and  with 
such  signal  effect,  he  felt  a  wild  sensation — half  of  joy,  half 
of  pain — creeping  through  his  veins.  As  he  saw  the  shape 
disappear  behind  the  trees  in  the  uncertain  light  of  the 
morning,  and  perceived  that  the  battle  was  ended,  he  felt 
himself  irresistibly  impelled  to  follow :  he  did  so ;  and  by 
using  what  speed  he  was  master  of,  soon  obtained  a  faint 
glimpse  of  the  warrior  as  he  moved  with  now  rapid  strides 
towards  the  river. 

20* 


234  MOUNT     HOPE 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

"A  slow  step  startled  him!  he  grasped  his  blade, 
As  if  a  trumpet  rang."— WILLIS. 

AFTER  winding  for  the  distance  of  nearly  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  among  the  dense  hazel  and  juniper  bushes  that  shed 
copious  showers  of  dew  upon  him  as  he  hurried  past  them, 
Ashford  came  suddenly  into  an  open  glade  covered  with 
immense  elms,  extending  down  to  the  very  brink  of  the 
river,  that  now  gleamed  through  the  vapory  veil  of  mist  that 
floated  over  it,  as  indistinct  and  shadowy  as  the  form  and 
features  of  the  phantom  that  had  just  vanished  from  the 
astonished  soldiers.  As  he  neared  the  river,  he  paused, 
and  looked  eagerly  for  the  fugitive,  but  in  vain.  No  trace 
of  him  was  visible  among  the  shadows  of  the  trees,  or  by 
the  side  of  the  stream.  It  seemed  as  if  the  deliverer  of 
Hadley  must  have  melted  in  the  mist,  or  plunged  into  the 
waves  that  flowed  beneath  it. 

The  sun  had  arisen  while  he  wandered  up  and  down  the 
river,  and  now  threw  its  red  rays  horizontally  across  the 
water,  dispersing  the  mist,  and  giving  to  sight  what  Ash- 
ford  had  not  before  observed — a  rock  that  jutted  out  into  the 
stream,  and  obstructed  the  view  to  the  south.  He  crept 
noiselessly  around  this  obstacle  ;  and  there,  seated  upon  the 
crooked  trunk  of  an  old  willow  that  grew  close  upon  the 
water's  edge,  and  trailed  its  long  silvery  leaves  over  him, 
sat  an  old  man,  with  his  head  bowed  upon  his  hand,  and 
looking  intently  into  the  water.  By  his  feet,  and  against  the 


MOUNT    HOPE.  235 

root  of  the  tree,  lay  the  cloak  that  seemed  accidentally  to  have 
fallen  from  his  shoulders,  and  a  cap  that  bore  marks  of 
having  once  seen  service  in  the  army  of  the  Protector,  but 
now  without  the  vestige  of  a  plume.  The  frame  of  the  old 
man  was  such  as  might  almost  have  belonged  to  the  fabled 
race  of  giants ;  so  tall  was  it,  and  so  square  and  broad  were 
the  shoulders  that  filled,  if  not  with  the  roundness,  at  least 
with  more  than  the  muscular  development  of  youth,  the 
faded  coat  that  still  bore  marks  of  the  rank  of  a  major- 
general.  But  it  was  not  so  much  the  form  as  the  features 
of  the  old  man  that  riveted  the  gaze  of  the  intruder.  The 
high  forehead,  with  the  long  white  hair,  abundant  as  in 
youth,  falling  to  the  very  shoulders — the  acquiline  nose — 
most  of  all,  the  eye,  dark,  and  no  longer  lit  up  with  the  fire 
of  battle,  but  deep  in  its  repose  as  the  wave  on  which  it 
rested — the  proud,  melancholy  expression  of  the  face,  as  if 
it  had  itself  been  a  battle-field  for  the  struggles  that  but  too 
often  arise  in  strong  natures  between  principle  and  pas 
sion — the  young  privateer  looked  long  and  intently  upon 
these,  as  busy  memory  ran  through  the  mazes  of  years 
that  had  passed,  till  he  found  himself  again  a  boy. 

Tears  streamed  down  his  cheeks  as  he  gazed,  and  a  sigh, 
deep  and  audible,  heaved  his  breast. 

The  old  man  started  from  his  revery,  and,  drawing  the 
sword  that  hung  at  his  girdle,  sprung  forward,  as  if  to 
plunge  it  into  the  heart  of  the  man  who  had  stolen  upon  his 
solitude. 

"  What  wretch  art  thou,  so  ambitious  to  fall  by  this  hand, 
as  to  tempt  the  point  of  the  steel  that  it  did  never  yet  wield 
amiss  ?  Move  but  another  step  towards  this  spot,  and  thy 
blood  shall  crimson  these  waters.  I  thirst  not  for  it,  youth, 
so  thou  wilt  depart  in  peace." 

"My  father — my  father!"  faltered  the   privateer — his 


236  MOUNT     HOPE. 

arms  crossed  upon  his  breast  like  a  condemned  criminal 
awaiting  the  stroke  of  the  executioner — "  calm  your  angry 
brow,  and  soften  that  stern  voice  once  more,  were  it  but  a 
word  in  token  of  forgiveness  of  the  follies  of  a  son !  I  see 
that  you  look  wildly  upon  me,  as  if  my  face  and  form  were 
never  known  to  you ;  and,  indeed,  I  know  they  must  have 
changed  with  the  development  of  manhood  and  the  vicissi 
tudes  of  years.  But  you,  father — though  age  has  whitened 
your  hair  and  ploughed  your  cheek  with  furrows — you  are 
the  same  as  when  in  a  fit  of  anger  I  left  you,  as  I  then 
thought,  for  ever.  Goffe  cannot  hide  in  so  lonely  a  cavern 
of  the  earth,  that  the  penitent — the  prodigal,  if  you  will — 
shall  not  find  him." 

"  It  is  indeed  my  son,"  said  the  regicide,  restoring  his 
sword  to  the  scabbard,  and  throwing  his  arms  affection 
ately  around  the  form  of  the  youth,  whom  he  had  so  often 
perilled  his  life  in  vain  to  find.  "  It  is  my  son,  returned 
in  this  my  dark  hour  to  ask  of  me  the  forgiveness  which  I 
have  often  asked  of  my  heavenly  Father  for  myself.  Speak 
not  of  forgiveness,  William :  we  have  both  erred,  and  I 
hope  are  both  penitent — thou  for  the  wildness  and  folly  of 
youth ;  I,  for  the  sharpness  of  rebuke  with  which  I  would 
have  restrained  thee.  Let  the  past  be  forgotten,  or  only 
remembered  as  a  lesson  and  a  warning. — Thou  hast  made 
my  heart  swell  but  to  relieve  itself  in  tears,  my  boy.  It  is 
well.  I  have  not  wept  before  since  the  dreary  night  when 
I  bade  thy  dear  mother  adieu  for  the  last  time  on  earth." 

"  My  mother !  Do  you  hear  aught  of  her,  secreted  as  you 
are,  and  a  fugitive  in  this  strange  land  ?" 

"Yes — William,  often.  She  writes  long  letters,  filled 
with  sweet  comfort,  such  as  none  but  a  wife  can  bestow.  It 
is  as  if  a  spirit  spoke  to  me  from  the  skies,  my  son ;  for 
she  never  hopes  to  see  me  again  till  we  meet  where  there 


MOUNT     HOPE.  237 

is  no  king,  save  the  King  of  kings,  and  no  tormenting  minis 
ters  of  his  bidding,  save  such  as  go  upon  his  errands  of 
retribution  in  the  nether  air. — But  where,"  he  added  in  a 
livelier  tone,  "  hast  thou  been  wandering,  and  what  will-o'- 
the-wisp  has  led  thee  hither,  perhaps  only  to  be  lost  in  the 
morass  that  may  prove  inextricable  as  well  to  thee  as  to  thy 
father  ?  Thou  hast  grown  to  be  a  tall  youth  ;  and  were 
Oliver  alive,  and  thou  presented  at  the  door  of  his  tent  for 
the  recruiting  service,  he  would  say  thou  hadst  a  soldierly 
step  and  a  martial  bearing.  But  I  cannot  be  proud  of  thee 
till  thou  tell  me  in  what  business  thou  hast  learned  these 
havings." 

"  I  left  you,  father,  in  my  unripe  anger,  and  fled  in  the 
night  to  Bristol,  where  by  accident  I  fell  in  with  one  Mose- 
ley,  a  captain  of  a  privateer,  who  had  seen  good  service 
under  Cromwell.  I  presented  myself  to  him  under  the 
name  of  Ashford,  retaining  my  other  name  of  William. 
He  told  me  that  I  was  a  brisk,  hearty  lad,  such  as  he  had 
long  sought  after,  and  promised  that,  if  I  would  share  his 
fortunes,  he  would  promote  me,  should  I  prove  worthy  of 
it,  to  some  place  of  rank.  I  made  easy  terms  with  him, 
only  asking  bread  and  clothing  in  exchange  for  hard  ser 
vice.  We  soon  set  sail,  and  were  not  long  in  falling  in 
with  the  enemy.  I  fought,  as  my  family  have  always 
done  when  driven  to  close  extremities,  and  was  the  first  to 
board  their  ship.  He  immediately  advanced  me  to  the 
rank  of  a  lieutenant,  and  from  that  day  forth  has  treated 
me  rather  as  if  I  had  been  a  son,  than  a  stranger.  For 
several  years  we  drifted  upon  diverse  seas,  pursuing  adven 
ture  with  less  regard  to  the  laws  of  nations  than  I  fear  we 
ought,  until,  as  I  told  you  I  would  do  when  I  left  your  fire 
side,  I  finally  landed  in  America.  I  had  scarcely  reached 
Boston  when  I  met  Colonel  Dixwell,  whom  I  knew,  having 


238  MOUNT     HOPE. 

often  seen  him  at  your  house.  He  told  me  on  no  account 
to  reveal  my  name  or  descent  until  I  had  leave  from  him 
or  from  you,  and  did  not  disabuse  me  of  the  impression  that 
you  and  my  revered  grandfather  Whalley  were  in  Hol 
land.  Why  he  did  not,  I  cannot  say ;  but  I  suppose  he 
doubted  my  discretion." 

"  And  how  did  you  learn  that  I  was  in  America  ?" 

"  Governor  Winthrop,  whose  acquaintance  I  had  made 
at  Boston,  and  for  whom  I  had  done  some  service,  sent  for 
me  while  upon  his  death-bed,  and  told  me  of  your  safe 
arrival,  referring  me  to  Mr.  Russell  for  particulars  of  your 
present  condition  and  place  of  concealment.  But  I  sought 
in  vain  to  elicit  from  the  stern,  incredulous  minister  the 
secret  that  I  knew  was  locked  in  his  bosom.  I  showed  him 
a  letter  from  Winthrop,  which  he  gave  me  almost  in  his 
last  hour — a  ring  that  had  been  worn  upon  his  finger  for 
years,  and  which  I  knew  must  have  attracted  the  attention 
of  all  who  ever  saw  him  wear  it — a  letter  from  your  old 
friend  Milton — but  all  would  not  do.  The  pertinacious  man 
shook  his  head,  and  put  me  by  with  some  delusive  hope  that 
another  interview  might  be  more  favourable.  This  morn 
ing,  in  the  heat  of  the  battle,  I  knew  you,  and  followed  you 
to  your  lurking-place.  Thank  Heaven,  we  part  no  more  ! 
But  where  is  my  mother's  father  ?  He  loved  me  ;  and  I 
did  what  none  could  fail  to  do  who  ever  saw  him — I  return 
ed  his  love." 

"  Follow  me,  William,  and  you  shall  see.  I  have  never 
shown  myself  in  the  open  day  in  this  place  before.  But 
the  stirring  events  of  the  morning  will  be  my  protection." 

GofFe  led  the  way  through  the  woods,  and,  entering  the 
front  door  of  the  parsonage,  conducted  his  son  into  the 
secret  chamber. 


MOUNT    HOPE.  239 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

«  And,  aa  if  strength  were  given  him  from  God, 
He  rose  up  calmly,  and  composed  the  pall 

Firmly  and  decently." — WILLIS. 

WHEN  Goffe  and  his  son  had  reached  the  secret  cham 
ber,  they  found  Mr.  Southworth  and  Mr.  Russell  both  in 
the  apartment,  standing  silently  by  the  bedside  of  Whalley, 
and  casting  at  the  same  time  an  apprehensive  glance  at 
Ashford.  Russell  shook  his  head  as  they  entered,  while 
the  other  clergyman,  advancing  towards  Goffe,  laid  his 
hand  upon  his  shoulder,  and  said,  in  a  low  tone, 

"  The  exile  has  gone  to  his  rest."  Apparently  uncon 
scious  that  he  was  addressed,  or  too  much  absorbed  in  his 
own  reflections  to  understand  the  import  of  the  words, 
Goffe  approached  the  bed,  as  if  to  inquire  after  the  health 
of  Whalley.  But  when  he  saw  the  closed  eyes,  and  the 
marble  whiteness  of  the  cheek  and  forehead,  he  seated  him 
self  upon  the  couch,  and,  taking  the  cold  hand  in  his  own, 
passed  his  fore-finger  to  the  emaciated  wrist,  and  held  it  for 
some  moments,  with  a  look  of  hushed,  intense  interest,  as  if 
doubting  the  actual  presence  of  the  king  of  terrors.  But 
not  a  pulse  answered  to  his  touch,  though  a  smile,  bright  as 
the  beams  of  the  morning  sun  that  streamed  in  upon  the 
pale  features  of  the  deceased  from  the  eastern  window,  still 
lingered  upon  his  lips,  and  bespoke  the  tranquillity  of  his  end. 

"  It  is  indeed  a  sweet  rest,"  said  Goffe,  seeming  to  recall 
the  words  of  Mr.  Southworth.  "  Look,  William,  how  like 


240  MOUNT    HOPE. 

one  asleep  and  lulled  in  happiest  dreams  the  dear  old  sol 
dier  smiles.  You  remember  the  face  as  you  saw  it  in 
childhood — warm,  genial,  gentle  at  the  social  board  as  that 
of  woman.  You  remember  how  the  blue  eye — blue  as 
the  tint  of  the  stainless  heavens — kindled  at  the  mirth  that 
none  could  resist,  or  softened  at  a  tale  of  sorrow.  I  have 
seen  that  eye  fierce  with  the  fires  of  battle,  calm  in  the 
legislative  chamber,  tearful,  yet  firm  as  that  unwavering 
hand  when  he  wrote  his  name  to  the  fatal  warrant  that 
doomed  a  monarch  to  the  axe  and  himself  to  a  banishment 
more  dreadful  than  death.  I  have  seen  it  in  later  days,  wild 
with  the  ravings  of  delirium  and  dimmed  with  the  shadows 
of  age  and  sorrow.  But  never,  in  calm  or  storm,  have  I 
seen  it  wear  a  look  so  lovely  as  the  face  now  wears  from 
which  its  light  is  stricken  for  ever.  I  call  to  mind  the  stir, 
ring  events  which  already  by  the  lapse  of  time  have  taken 
their  place  in  the  chronicled  order  of  the  past,  and  are  a 
part  of  the  world's  history.  The  courtiers  that  fawn  around 
the  throne  of  the  present  monarch,  and  bend  the  servile 
knee  in  servile  homage,  have  spurned  his  deeds,  while  they 
scoffed  at  the  name  of  liberty,  remote  from  license  as  it 
was  free  from  tyranny — a  liberty  that  knew  neither  chains 
for  the  body  nor  shackles  for  the  mind.  But  he  feared  not 
to  look  his  deeds  in  the  face,  though  he  fled  from  their 
dreadful  consequences.  He  knew  that  there  would  come 
a  time,  and  that  not  remote,  when  the  deeds  in  which  he 
acted  so  conspicuous  a  part,  should  shake  thrones  and  seep- 
tres  as  with  a  mighty  wind,  and  rouse  the  whole  family  of 
man  from  the  kthargy  of  ages.  No  more  did  he  repent 
those  deeds  than  do  I.  The  sense  of  self-preservation, 
implanted  so  deeply  in  our  natures  for  wise  and  noble  ends, 
the  horror  implied  by  the  thought  of  an  ignominious  death 
and  shameful  mutilation,  affected  us  both  alike.  But  they 


MOUNT     HOPE.  241 

have  not  shaken,  nor  could  all  the  powers  of  darkness 
render  infirm,  the  purposes  that  moved  our  hands.  He  is 
gone.  The  ashes  that  slumber  so  peacefully  before  us — the 
dead  ashes  now  abandoned  to  the  elements  from  which 
they  were  borrowed  for  the  temporary  uses  of  the  soul  that 
has  cast  them  aside — even  these  they  would  dishonour.  But 
it  must  not  be ;  I  say  it  must  not  be.  An  oath  is  recorded 
in  heaven,  that  while  I  live  they  shall  be  guarded  by  night 
and  day  with  unremitting  vigilance,  and  you,  William, 
when  I  am  gone,  shall  perform  the  same  office  for  us  both, 
whether  we  sleep  side  by  side,  or  whether  leagues  of  land  and 
water  intervene.  Russell,  you  need  not  look  so  suspiciously 
upon  this  youth.  He  is  my  son.  The  son  of  the  daughter 
of  him  who  sleeps  his  last  sleep  in  the  house  which  your 
hospitality  has  thrown  open  to  the  exile  and  wanderer." 

Russell  took  the  hand  of  William  in  his  own,  and  was 
proceeding  to  offer  some  apology  for  his  former  conduct. 
But  the  regicide  interrupted  him : 

"You  have  acted  your  part  with  prudence,  Russell;  not 
a  word  of  it.  He  has  more  reason  to  thank  than  to  blame 
you.  I  have  a  consideration  of  weighty  import  which  I 
desire  to  address  to  you  all.  These  ashes — I  said  they  must 
not  be  dishonoured.  In  what  secret  repository  shall  they 
be  concealed?" 

"Remove  a  portion  of  the  stone  wall  that  forms  the 
dividing  line  between  the  parsonage  and  the  land  of  my 
nearest  neighbour,  dig  a  grave  deep  in  the  earth,  and,  having 
buried  the  body,  then  in  the  dead  of  night,  rebuild  the  wall 
over  it,"  replied  Russell. 

"Nay,  I  should  rather  advise  that  it  be  placed  in  a  strong 
coffin,  and  carried  in  the  night  season  to  be  deposited  in  the 
burial-ground  at  New-Haven,  where  Davenport  and  Dix- 
\vell  can  protect  it  from  insult,"  said  Mr.  Southworth, 
21 


242  MOUNT     HOPE. 

"What  sayest  thou,  my  son?"  asked  Goffe. 
"I  think  both  the  proposed  modes  of  interment  are 
attended  with  risk  of  discovery.  Randolph  will  soon  be  in 
America.  He  has  every  motive  to  be  faithful  in  his  search. 
Were  I  to  advise,  I  should  recommend  that  a  grave  be  dig- 
ged  in  the  cellar  of  this  house,  and  that  after  the  remains 
are  covered  with  earth,  the  spot  be  sprinkled  with  ashes 
and  covered  with  rubbish,"  replied  William. 

"This  last  plan  accords  with  my  own  judgment,"  said 
Goffe.  "What  say  you,  Russell  ?  what  say  you,  Charles? 
Is  it  not  safest  ?" 

Both  readily  agreed  that  it  was  so. 

"There  is  now  a  painful  duty  to  be  performed,"  resumed 
Goffe ;  "  a  painful  duty,  and  sad  indeed  is  the  extremity  that 
casts  the  execution  of  it  upon  the  hands  of  a  near  relative 
and  friend  ,•  but  exile  and  sorrow  know  not  ceremony." 

As  he  spoke,  he  stooped,  and  placing  his  hand  under  the 
bed,  and  directly  beneath  the  remains  of  the  deceased,  drew 
out  to  the  surprise  of  all  present  a  firm,  solid  coffin  of  oak, 
neatly  fitted  together  with  screws,  and  painted  with  black 
paint.  Taking  out  the  fastenings,  he  removed  the  lid,  and 
disclosed  the  interior  surface.  Its  joints  where  the  boards 
came  in  contact,  were  secured  with  melted  lead  and  rosin, 
so  as  to  render  them  impervious  to  the  air.  When  this 
was  done,  he  said : 

"  I  have  long  contemplated  the  event  which  has  just  taken 
place,  and  you  see  that  I  am  prepared  for  it.  I  knew  that 
the  poor  mechanical  office  which  you  see  that  I  have  per 
formed  myself,  could  not  be  intrusted  to  the  hands  of  stran 
gers  ;  and  therefore,  under  the  apprehension  that  it  might  be 
necessary  to  remove  the  body  at  some  future  time,  I  have 
spent  the  dead  hours  of  the  winter  night,  when  I  knew  that 
the  sound  of  the  saw  and  the  hammer  would  not  excite  the 


MOUNT    HOPE.  243 

suspicion  of  the  villagers,  in  the  closet  that  forms  the 
ante-room  to  this  chamber,  in  preparing  this  tenement, 
which  I  knew  must  soon  find  an  occupant.  Let  us  prepare 
the  body  for  its  mansion — would  I  could  say,  its  last 
earthly  mansion!" 

In  all  the  preparations  for  the  mournful  obsequies,  the  old 
man  took  the  lead.  The  long  habit  of  nursing  and  taking 
the  sole  care  of  the  deceased  seemed  to  operate  mechanic 
ally  upon  him,  keeping  his  hands  constantly  employed  until 
the  body  was  placed  in  the  coffin.  The  whole  of  that  day, 
and  through  the  long  dreary  night,  he  sat  up  with  it  with 
the  same  tender  solicitude  as  if  it  had  been  still  endued 
with  life,  and  he  had  expected  every  moment  it  would 
awaken,  as  heretofore,  and  need  the  accustomed  food  or 
medicine. 

Miss  Willoughby  and  Ashford  had  already  had  a  full 
explanation  of  the  mystery  that  had  for  so  long  a  time  dis 
turbed  the  mind  of  the  former.  By  the  consent  of  GofFe, 
she  had  also  been  taken  to  the  secret  chamber,  and  looked 
upon  the  face  of  the  dead.  To  her  surprise,  she  recollected 
the  features,  which  she  had  more  than  once  seen  when  a 
child.  Indeed,  the  face  of  Whalley  was  at  the  same  time 
so  regular  and  striking — it  possessed  so  many  of  the  rarest 
traits  of  manly  beauty,  heightened  by  that  soul  of  the  human 
countenance,  expression — that  it  was  scarcely  possible  that, 
once  seen,  it  should  be  forgotten.  Besides,  children  are 
often  better  judges  of  physiognomy  than  adults,  as  it  is 
almost  the  only  way  in  which  they  determine  character, 
and  is  given  them  as  a  kind  of  instinct  to  protect  them  from 
harm.  She  also  recollected  her  earliest  impressions  of 
GofFe.  She  remembered  with  what  awe  he  had  impressed 
her,  and  how  she  had  fled  from  him  in  affright,  and  nestled 
in  the  arms  of  Colonel  Whalley  for  protection.  She  was 


244  MOUNT     HOPE. 

deeply  moved  at  sight  of  the  face  of  the  deceased,  not  only 
because  his  death  had  brought  a  shadow  over  the  family 
circle  at  the  parsonage,  but  also  on  account  of  the  part 
which  he  had  taken  in  the  battles  of  the  Protector,  where 
both  her  grandfather  and  father  had  fought  at  his  side. 
During  the  day  next  succeeding  that  of  Whalley's  death,  a 
grave  was  dug  deep  in  the  cellar  of  the  parsonage,  near  the 
north  wall,  and  parallel  with  it.  It  was  finished  about  noon, 
and  then  the  residue  of  the  day  and  the  evening  were 
passed  by  the  members  of  the  family  who  had  any  knowl 
edge  of  the  event  in  their  own  private  apartments,  with  a 
view  of  composing  their  minds  for  the  funeral  ceremony, 
which  was  appointed  to  take  place  at  midnight.  Goffe 
alone  remained  in  the  death-chamber  as  on  the  preceding 
night.  When  the  old  clock  that  stood  in  the  front  hall  struck 
the  hour  of  twelve,  the  mourners  all  assembled.  They 
found  the  curtains  of  the  windows  drawn  and  the  shutters 
closed — a  precaution  that  seemed  scarcely  necessary,  for 
hardly  a  ray  of  the  flickering  lamp  that  burned  in  the  closet 
adjoining  the  chamber  escaped  from  the  narrow  crevice  of 
the  massive  oaken  door  as  it  stood  ajar.  Then  the  lid  was 
firmly  screwed  down  upon  the  coffin,  and  it  was  let  down  by 
ropes  through  the  aperture  in  the  closet  floor,  until  it  rested 
upon  the  ground  near  the  grave. 

After  it,  descended  the  whole  circle  of  mourners,  five  in 
number,  and  stood  around  the  coffin,  Miss  Willougbly  lean 
ing  upon  Ashford's  arm.  Sweet  and  peaceful,  as  had  been 
the  last  breath  of  the  deceased,  was  the  prayer  that  Mr. 
Southworth  breathed  over  his  remains.  It  was  a  scene 
never  to  be  forgotten  by  those  who  witnessed  it.  The  tall 
form  of  Goffe,  bowed  as  if  to  embrace  the  dust  now  shut 
for  ever  from  his  sight ;  the  stern,  formal  Russell,  dressed 
in  his  clerical  habiliments,  his  thin  lips  compressed,  and  his 


MOUNT     HOPE.  245 

arms  folded  across  his  breast;  the  slender  figure  of  Miss 
Willoughby,  shrinking  as  if  from  the  damp  vapours  of  the 
vault ;  the  anxious  look  of  Ashford,  as  his  eye  rested  on 
her;  the  pure,  spiritual  face  of  Mr.  Southworth,  upturned 
as  if  his  eye  of  faith  penetrated  all  earthly  obstacles,  and 
rested  on  the  gates  of  the  celestial  city,  whose  King  he 
invoked ;  the  dead,  dull  walls  of  gray  stone  that  shut  out 
the  world  from  the  rites  they  had  met  to  celebrate,  might 
have  given  immortality  to  a  painter  whose  pencil  was 
worthy  of  the  subject.  Nothing  could  be  more  musical 
than  the  voice  of  the  reverend  man,  thus  poured  forth  in 
prayer. 

He  alluded  to  the  eventful  life  of  the  deceased,  his  sor 
rowful  exile,  his  patient  sufferings,  the  hope  of  the  Christian 
— the  only  hope  which  whispers  no  promise  to  the  ear  that 
it  does  not  make  good  to  the  heart — the  hope  that  is  an 
anchor  to  the  soul.  He  implored  the  aid  of  Him  who  had 
guided  the  exiles  to  a  safe  asylum,  to  sustain  the  sinking 
heart  of  the  aged  survivor,  and  bring  him,  tempest-tossed 
though  he  might  be,  to  a  haven  where  the  deep  waters  are 
crested  with  no  billows,  nor  ever  agitated  with  storms.  He 
prayed  that,  for  the  sake  of  the  living,  the  ashes  of  the  dead 
might  lie  for  ever  hidden  from  the  eyes  of  those  who  would 
seek  to  dishonour  them,  and  sleep  in  peace  till  the  resur 
rection  morning  should  revivify  and  etherealize  them  for 
the  everlasting  habitation  of  the  soul. 

When  he  had  concluded,  low,  suppressed  sobbings,  so 
low  that  they  scarcely  reached  the  walls  that  surrounded 
the  living  and  the  dead,  burst  from  the  very  hearts  of  the 
little  auditory,  and  then  the  coffin  was  let  slowly  down  into 
the  grave,  and  dust  was  committed  to  kindred  dust  by  kin 
dred  hands. 

Such  was  the  funeral  of  a  military  hero  of  such  celebrity 
21* 


246  MOUNT     HOPE. 

and  worth,  that  Oliver  Cromwell — a  chieftain  who  was  not 
wont  to  bestow  praise  where  it  was  undeserved — in  a  mili 
tary  despatch,  wrote  of  him  in  words  that  characterize  both 
the  writer  and  the  man  of  whom  he  wrote : 

"  The  honour  is  due  to  God,  as  also  to  the  rest.  Major 
Whalley  did  in  this  carry  himself  with  all  the  gallantry 
becoming  a  gentleman  and  a  Christian." 

Slowly  and  in  tears  the  little  funeral  party  climbed  the 
moveable  staircase,  and  leaving  Goffe  with  his  son  in  the 
secret  chamber,  retired,  but  not  to  sleep. 


MO  U  N  T     HOPE.  247 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

"Tell  me  the  Fairie's  name  I" 

THE  next  morning  after  the  funeral,  the  family,  who  had 
participated  in  its  rites,  assembled  in  the  secret  chamber 
at  an  early  hour.  They  were  composed  and  calm,  and 
Goffe  was  even  more  cheerful  than  he  had  been  for  several 
weeks  before  the  death  of  his  fellow-exile.  He  felt  that  in 
case  of  discovery,  the  helpless  old  man  was  at  least  safe 
from  the  hands  of  his  pursuers. 

After  some  time  spent  in  discoursing  upon  the  events  of 
the  last  two  days,  among  which  the  wonderful  delivery  of 
Hadley  was  not  forgotten,  the  conversation  took  a  more 
social  turn. 

Goffe  at  length  alluded  to  his  visit  at  the  Bluff,  and 
reminded  Mr.  South  worth  of  his  promise  to  inform  him  of 
the  parentage,  and  something  of  the  history,  of  the  young 
lady  whose  name,  from  the  multiplicity  of  subjects  that  had 
occupied  his  mind  since  her  appearance  at  the  parsonage, 
had  not  yet  been  made  known  to  him. 

"  She  is  called  Anne  Willoughby,"  said  Mr.  Southworth, 
in  answer  to  his  question,  "and  her  family  is  one  of 
the  oldest  in  England.  You  cannot  have  forgotten  that 
noble  Lord  Willoughby  who  fought  so  gallantly  with  the 

Protector  at  the  battle  of ,  in  the  year  16 — .  You 

cannot  have  forgotten  the  fate  of  Cavendish,  and  the  head 
long  pursuit  of  Colonel  Whalley,  which,  whenever  his 


248  MOUNT    HOPE. 

blood  was  heated,  scarcely  the  authority  of  my  Lord 
General  could  check.  Nor  can  you  have  forgotten  how, 
side  by  side,  they  rode  down  so  many  of  the  brave  troops 
of  the  Marquis  of  Newcastle.  He  scarcely  yielded  to 
Whalley  himself  in  skill  or  prowess.  This  nobleman  had 
a  younger  son,  who  fell  surrounded  by  two  of  his  own  gal 
lant  sons  in  later  years  on  the  field  of ." 

"Hold!"  said  Goffe,  eagerly;  "tell  me  no  more:  I 
remember  it  well.  The  son  of  this  Lord  Willoughby  mar 
ried  Mary  Southworth,  your  sister,  the  most  beautiful  and 
lovely  of  women ;  sensitive  and  shrinking  as  the  most  deli 
cate  flower,  she  never  raised  her  drooping  head  after  her 
husband  and  sons  were  brought  home  dead  to  the  house, 
which  they  had  but  just  left  in  the  pride  of  manhood  ;  and 
this  Anne  is  her  daughter:  I  knew  it  must  be  so.  The 
impress  of  the  mother's  features  was  too  striking  to  be 
mistaken  :  the  same  blending  of  the  red  and  white  in  her 
complexion,  the  same  slender  neck,  the  same  graceful 
shape,  but  something  of  the  pride  of  the  Willoughbies  in  the 
eye  and  in  the  step.  My  daughter,  do  you  remember  the 
thunder-storm,  and  the  old  soldier  who  sought  shelter  in 
your  little  cottage  by  the  lake  ?  Do  you  remember  your 
truant  disposition,  and  the  zeal  that  prompted  me  to  forget 
all  considerations  of  personal  safety  in  pursuit  of  those  who 
had  robbed  your  kind  uncle  of  his  best  treasure  ?  I  had  a 
presentiment  that  it  must  be  your  mother's  child — Mary's 
child.  She  was  thrown  under  my  protection  for  the  few 
sad  weeks  that  passed  between  the  death  of  her  husband 
and  sons  and  her  own.  I  now  recollect  that  she  had  a  little 
daughter,  but  the  storms  and  dangers  that  have  since  beset 
me,  have  driven  the  recollection  of  many  an  incident  and 
the  very  existence  of  many  a  face  from  my  mind.  It  is  a 


MOUNT     HOPE.  249 

sad  wilderness,  fair  one,  for  such  as  thou  ;  and  wild  flow 
ers  may  seem  but  a  poor  exchange  for  the  jewels  which, 
but  for  the  clouds  that  settled  round  the  evening  of  the  days 
of  the  Protector,  might  have  glittered  in  thy  dark  brown 
hair.  But  there  is  more  than  one  strong  arm  and  brave 
heart  that  could  perish  to  save  thee." 

"  I  am  but  too  happy  to  say,  my  father,  that  there  is  one 
at  least  who  has  stronger  motives  than  you  can  have  to  pro 
tect  her  while  he  has  strength  to  strike  a  blow  !"  exclaimed 
William. 

"  Thou  wast  always  a  wayward  boy,  William ;  I  dare 
warrant  thou  hast  plighted  thy  faith  to  her  without  consult 
ing  either  her  guardian  or  thine  own,"  said  the  regicide, 
playfully. 

"  Only  half  so  bad  as  you  imagined,  my  father :  Mr. 
South  worth  has  been  consulted  already;  and  had  it  not 
been  for  the  incredulous  fidelity  of  our  friend,  Mr.  Russell 
here,  your  own  consent  would  have  been  asked  ere  this." 

"  Asked  and  received,  William,  so  thou  wilt  prove  thy 
self  worthy  of  the  boon  which  it  has  pleased  Heaven  to 
grant  thee.  Would  that  the  war  with  these  troublesome 
savages  were  over  for  her  sake  !  And,  now  I  bethink  me  of 
it,  I  like  that  name  of  Ashford  so  well,  that,  for  her  safety, 
I  would  advise  you  to  retain  it  until  the  dangers  that  sur 
round  the  name  of  Goffe  are  well  over." 

"  Until  the  close  of  the  war,"  said  Mr.  Southworth, 
dejectedly,  "I  scarcely  know  what  place  I  can  find  where 
I  can  hide  my  dear  Anne  from  the  dangers  which  she  has 
so  providentially  escaped." 

"  What  should  ail  the  pretty  cottage  at  the  Bluff,  Charles? 

cannot  the  people  of  B protect  thee  and  the  maiden 

there  securely  ?" 


250  MOUNT     HOPE. 

"  The  cottage  is  burned  to  ashes,  venerable  sir,  and  the 
little  church,  too,  where  I  ministered  is  also  consumed." 

"  I  can  put  an  end  tp  this  discussion  at  once,"  said  Rus* 
sell,  gravely,  "  provided  my  poor  roof  be  an  acceptable 
shelter." 

"  The  affair  was  soon  arranged  in  accordance  with  the 
proposition  of  the  old  clergyman  ;  and  we  will  leave  the 
family  at  the  parsonage,  while  we  resume  another  long- 
neglected  branch  of  our  narrative." 


MOUNT     HOPE.  251 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

"Shall  victor  exult,  or  in  death  be  laid  low, 
With  his  back  to  the  field  and  his  feet  to  the  foe ! " 

CAMPBELL. 

THE  reader  will  suppose  a  month  or  two  to  have  inter 
vened  since  the  close  of  the  last  chapter,  and  that  it  is  now  the 
evening  of  Friday,  the  llth  of  August.  Philip  had  returned 
early  in  the  spring  from  his  visit  to  the  Mohawk  and  Canada 
Indians,  having  met  with  but  faint  success  in  soliciting  aid 
from  the  tribes  of  the  interior.  Not  discouraged  at  this 
disappointment,  he  had  kept  up  the  contest  with  astonishing 
vigour  and  activity,  as  the  smoking  villages  of  Massachu 
setts  and  Rhode  Island,  and  the  dead  bodies  of  their  inhab 
itants,  bore  testimony  appalling  in  the  last  degree  to  the 
English.  No  aboriginal  chief  had  ever  gained,  during  his 
whole  life,  so  many  and  such  signal  victories  over  the  supe 
rior  discipline  and  numbers  of  the  white  population  of  the 
colonies,  as  he  had  done  within  the  three  months  next  pre- 
ceding  that  evening.  But  his  forces  had  been  gradually 
diminished  by  the  exertions  of  Moseley  and  Church,  who 
had  scoured  the  whole  Indian  country;  his  chiefs  in  whom 
he  reposed  most  confidence  had  been,  many  of  them,  cut 
off;  and,  to  crown  all,  his  beautiful  queen  and  the  young 
prince  had  both  recently  fallen  into  the  hands  of  his  enemies. 
Many  of  the  tribes  who  had  allied  themselves  to  his  enter 
prise  had  deserted  his  falling  fortunes,  and  gone  over  to  the 
English.  Indeed,  it  could  no  longer  be  doubted  what  must 


5252  MOUNT    HOPE. 

x 

be,  ere  long,  the  result  of  the  struggle.  But  in  the  midst 
of  all  these  calamities,  whatever  ideas  he  may  have  enter 
tained  of  the  fate  of  his  plans,  his  deep-seated  resolution 
never  for  a  moment  forsook  him :  he  remained  the  same 
indomitable  son  of  the  woods  as  when  he  had  first  dug  up 
the  hatchet  from  beneath  the  shade  where  his  father  had 
buried  it.  No  overtures  of  peace  made  him  by  the  colo 
nists  received  any  favour  from  him  :  he  spurned  alike  their 
pardons  and  their  threats.  He  rejected  all  proposals  on 
their  part  to  enter  into  any  engagement  by  treaty ;  and 
when  asked  to  make  peace,  and  embrace  the  religion  of  his 
enemies,  he  instantly  killed  the  Indian  who  had  made  the 
proposition. 

The  English,  on  all  former  occasions  of  war  with  any 
one  of  the  tribes,  had  either  crushed  them  at  once,  or  been 
able  to  bring  about  a  reconciliation  by  negotiating  with 
their  chief.  But  this  systematic  prosecution  of  a  war  that 
had  now  lasted  fourteen  months  with  unabated  fury,  bespoke 
the  existence  of  an  enemy  who  united  all  the  vindictiveness 
of  the  savage  with  the  fruitful  intellectual  resources  and 
unwavering  strength  of  purpose  of  the  European — a  mind 
which,  under  more  favourable  circumstances,  might  have 
ruled  empires,  or  commanded  the  mightiest  armies. 

They  saw  that  Philip  was  the  soul  and  arm  of  the  war, 
and  that  nothing  short  of  his  death  could  put  an  end  to  its 
wasting  and  wide-spread  devastation.  A  result  that  many 
would  at  first  gladly  have  avoided,  had  now  become  an 
imperious  necessity,  that  absorbed  all  other  considerations 
in  the  one  first  law  of  nature — self-preservation. 

Never  was  a  charge  so  important  committed  to  more 
skilful  hands  than  those  of  the  brave  Captain  Church. 

Abandoned  by  many  of  his  subjects,  and  bereft  of  others 
by  the  fortune  of  the  war,  Philip  had  retired  to  his  heredi- 


MOUNT    HOPE.  253 

tary  seat,  Pokanoket,  the  place  where  the  first  flames  of 
battle  had  been  kindled,  and  where  the  chief  seems  to  have 
been  resolved  that  its  last  sparks  should  be  quenched. 

He  built  his  lodge  not  far  from  the  high  rock  which  has 
been  described  in  a  former  chapter,  early  on  the  evening 
of  the  llth  of  August.  He  then  repaired  alone  to  the 
spring  that  sparkled  beneath  the  poplar-tree,  and  drank  for 
the  last  time  of  its  waters.  From  that  he  visited  the  grave 
of  Massasoit,  and  sat  long  among  the  rank  grass  that  rustled 
above  it,  listening  to  the  murmurs  of  the  waves  as  they 
broke  upon  the  beach  in  mournful  dirges  that  seemed  pro 
phetic  of  the  doom  that  treachery  was  preparing  for  him. 
The  Indians  are,  perhaps,  more  watchful  over  the  ashes  of 
their  dead  than  more  civilized  nations;  and  guard  them 
with  a  tender  solicitude  that  seems  so  much  at  variance 
with  the  cold,  passive  exterior  of  the  warrior,  when  called 
upon  either  to  witness  or  suffer  the  extremest  tortures  that 
the  human  frame  can  endure,  that  we  should  scarcely  credit 
the  existence  of  such  a  sentiment  in  them,  were  not  the  fact 
so  indisputably  established  by  the  testimony  of  the  best 
writers.  From  the  grave  of  his  father  he  went  to  the  sum 
mit  of  Mount  Hope,  and  looked  far  over  the  wide  expanse 
of  woods  and  waters,  searching  out  with  his  keen  eye  the 
far-off  blaze  of  the  distant  watch-fire  that  looked,  as  it 
gleamed  faintly  from  the  foliage,  dim  and  indistinct  as  the 
light  of  the  fire-fly  that  hovered  over  the  winding  margin 
of  the  bay. 

Having  satisfied  himself  that  there  was  nothing  to  fear 
from  the  appearance  of  the  English,  he  retired  to  his  lodge 
that  had  been  erected  in  the  swamp  near  Mount  Hope,  and 
spent  several  hours  in  consultation  with  his  faithful  old 
counsellor,  Anawan,  before  betaking  himself  to  his  rest. 

Meanwhile,  an  Indian,  named  Alderman  by  the  English, 
22 


254  MOUNT    HOPE. 

a  brother  of  the  warrior  who  had  just  before  been  killed  by 
Philip,  for  advising  him  to  make  what  he  deemed  an  inglo 
rious  peace  with  the  enemy,  deserted,  sought  out  the  camp 
of  Captain  Church,  and  discovered  to  him  the  hiding-place 
of  his  sachem. 

The  encampment  of  Church  was  not  more  than  five  miles 
distant,  so  that  he  was  aware  of  the  near  proximity  of  the 
enemy  before  midnight. 

He  immediately  set  his  army  in  motion,  and  arrived  at 
Pokanoket  at  day-break.  Before  he  was  discovered,  he 
had  placed  a  guard  around  the  swamp  where  Philip  was 
encamped,  so  that  it  was  entirely  encompassed,  with  the 
exception  of  a  single  outlet. 

He  then  directed  Captain  Golding,  who  served  under 
him,  to  scour  the  swamp,  and  fall  upon  the  encampment  of 
Philip.  Golding  rushed  into  the  swamp  with  a  strong  body 
of  forces  under  his  command ;  but  the  crackling  of  the 
bushes  betrayed  his  approach,  and  Philip,  who  now  saw  that 
his  only  chance  was  in  a  precipitate  flight,  sprang  from  his 
wigwam,  and  ran,  nearly  naked,  with  the  hope  of  escaping 
through  the  line  of  English  soldiers  that  lay  in  ambush 
around  the  borders  of  the  swamp.  Golding  and  his  men 
gave  instant  chase ;  but  they  might,  with  equal  chance  of 
success,  have  attempted  to  follow  the  track  of  a  bird  of 
passage  through  the  air.  The  sachem,  who  knew  every 
inch  of  ground  over  which  he  passed,  fled  over  fallen  trunks 
of  trees,  and  through  dense  alders,  until  he  was  out  of  sight 
of  his  pursuers.  He  had  already  ran  nearly  an  hundred 
rods,  and  could  see  the  open  plain  just  before  him,  when  he 
perceived  an  Englishman  and  an  Indian,  each  with  a  mus 
ket  raised  to  his  shoulder,  and  brought  to  bear  upon  him. 
He  darted  aside,  just  as  the  Englishman  snapped  his  gun, 
which  missed  fire. 


MOUNT     HOPE.  255 

The  Indian  was  more  successful ;  for  before  Philip 
could  escape  beyond  the  reach  of  his  shot,  the  deadly  con 
tents  of  the  rifle  were  lodged  in  his  breast,  and  he  fell  life 
less  upon  his  face — the  momentum  imparted  to  his  body  by 
the  speed  with  which  he  ran,  almost  burying  it  in  the  mud 
and  water.  The  fatal  shot  was  fired  by  the  traitor  Alder 
man,  who  had  spent  the  whole  night  in  consummating  his 
vindictive  purposes. 

Alderman  immediately  ran  and  told  Church  that  he  had 
killed  Philip;  the  captain  commanded  him  to  keep  it  a  pro 
found  secret,  until,  to  use  his  own  expression,  "they  had 
driven  the  swamp  clean." 

The  Indians,  finding  that  they  were  waylaid,  faced 
suddenly  about,  and  stood  on  the  defensive  for  a  moment ; 
but  the  news  of  the  death  of  Philip  was  soon  spread  among 
their  ranks,  and  then  they  broke  and  fled.  It  was  all  to  no 
purpose  that  the  old  sagamore,  Anawan,  shouted  his  accus 
tomed  war-cry  "I-oo-tash!  I-oo-tash!"  The  spirit  of  the 
warriors  was  broken  by  the  dreadful  intelligence,  and  the 
voice  of  his  subaltern  only  seemed  to  augment  their  flight. 

When  the  battle  was  over,  the  English  hurried  to  the 
place  where  the  chief  had  fallen.  Church  ordered  that 
the  body  should  be  taken  out  of  the  mud,  and  placed  upon 
the  upland.  When  this  was  done,  it  was  found,  upon 
examining  the  body,  that  one  of  the  two  balls  with  which 
the  rifle  was  charged  had  passed  directly  through  his  heart, 
and  the  other  a  little  above  it,  so  that  either  must  have 
proved  fatal. 

Thus  we  have  endeavoured  to  sketch  what  will  doubt 
less  be  considered  a  very  imperfect  outline  of  one  of  the 
most  gifted  and  brilliant  warriors — and  may  we  not  add 
statesman  ? — that  has  ever  figured  in  the  annals  of  our  con 
tinent.  The  Csesars  and  the  Hannibals  of  history  were 


256  MOUNT     HOPE. 

surrounded  by  more  of  the  glitter,  more  of  the  "  pomp  and 
circumstance"  of  war,  but  none  have  excelled  Pometacom, 
the  uncompromising  enemy  of  civilized  society,  in  fruitful- 
ness  of  intellectual  resources,  in  celerity  in  executing  his 
plans,  and  in  the  untiring  purpose,  which,  like  the  plumes 
of  his  own  eagle,  when  spread  to  encounter  the  blaze  of 
the  noon-day  sun,  never  faltered  in  its  flight  till  it  was 
quenched  in  the  radiance  of  the  orb  of  civilization,  which 
it  sought  in  vain  to  blot  from  the  heavens. 


MOUNT    HOPE.  257 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

* 

"The  ocean  is  my  grave." 

THE  war  ended  with  the  death  of  Philip.  In  accord 
ance  with  a  custom  that  dates  from  the  times  of  the 
Hebrews,  but  which  has  happily  fallen  into  disuse,  the 
victors  had  now  to  dispose  of  their  captives.  This  was 
done  in  part  by  distributing  them  among  the  conquerors 
and  in  part  by  sending  them  by  ship  loads  to  Spain,  and 
the  West  Indies.  Hundreds  of  these  free-born  men  were 
thus  transported  to  a  climate  which,  accustomed  as  they 
were  to  the  winds  and  snows  of  the  rough  coast  of  New 
England,  they  could  ill  endure,  and  to  a  servitude  which 
corroded  the  spirit,  as  it  enervated  the  strong  limbs,  that 
had  chased  the  deer  and  the  otter  over  ice-covered  lakes, 
and  broad-sweeping  rivers.  Many  died  ere  they  reached 
the  port  of  their  destination,  and  none  arrived  at  old  age. 
There  was  no  Indian-summer,  no  sweet  south-west  with  its 
"Spirit  Lake"  in  the  dead  level  of  the  ocean-horizon  which 
circumscribed  the  islands  of  the  west. 

One  bright  September  evening,  a  ship  with  all  her  can- 
vas  spread  to  catch  the  freshly  springing  breeze,  swept 
briskly  through  the  waters  that  dash  against  the  coast  of 
Rhode  Island.  She  was  a  Spanish  slaver,  freighted  with 
Indian  captives.  As  she  approached  the  wood-skirted  shore 
of  Pokanoket,  an  Indian  woman — beautiful,  but  wild  and 
haggard  in  her  look — led  a  little  boy  to  the  rail  of  the  ship, 
and  looked  wistfully  toward  the  shore.  It  was  the  queen 
22* 


258  MOUNT     HOPE. 

of  the  Wampanoags.  The  blue  and  violet  wampum,  the 
otter's  fur,  no  longer  adorned  her  slender  neck,  nor  hung 
gracefully  from  her  shoulders.  The  long  black  hair,  no 
longer  decorated  with  flowers,  that  grew  in  the  wildest 
recesses  of  the  woods,  floated  negligently  in  the  chill  breeze 
that  swelled  the  sail,  and  hurried  the  little  billows  against 
the  shore  that  she  loved.  Though  not  a  tear  glistened  in 
her  eye,  yet  she  looked  the  very  embodiment  of  unutter 
able  sorrow,  as  she  gazed  now  at  the  coast,  and  now  in  the 
face  of  the  boy.  He,  too,  was  sadly  changed :  he  looked 
thin  and  wasted  almost  to  a  shadow.  He  had  been  robbed 
of  the  solitary  feather  that  had  been,  from  his  birth  till  now, 
the  mark  of  the  royalty  he  was  one  day  expected  to  put  on ; 
but  the  proud  soul  of  Pometacom  still  flashed  from  his  eye. 

As  the  ship  rode  gayly  on,  the  white  flint  rock  that 
crowned  the  summit  of  Mount  Hope,  rose  huge  and  ghastly 
against  the  black  clouds  that  lay  beyond  it. 

"Where  is  the  king  of  the  Wampanoags?"  asked  the 
boy,  fixing  his  eye  upon  the  promontory.  "Let  his  queen 
and  his  son  go  to  seek  the  chief.  Look — the  clouds  do  not 
settle  on  the  south-west." 

The  mother  turned  her  eye  in  the  direction  indicated  by 
his  little  hand ;  then  grasped  him  firmly  in  her  arms,  and, 
mounting  the  rail  of  the  ship,  just  as  a  flash  of  lightning 
lit  up  the  summit  of  the  rock,  plunged  silently  into  the 
waters. 

The  ship  glided  on ;  and  long  before  the  foam  had  ceased 
to  whiten  her  wake,  the  queen  and  the  son  of  Philip,  secure 
from  the  bondage  to  which  their  proud  spirits  could  never 
submit,  were  sleeping  side  by  side  in  the  embraces  of  the 
ocean. 


MOUNT     HOPE.  259 


CHAPTER   XXX. 


Perez.  "Of  what  breeding?" 
Estifania.  "A  gentleman,  sir." 

BEAUMONT  and  FLETCHER. 


ONE  evening,  after  the  fall  of  Philip,  as  Miss  Willoughby 
sat  in  a  little  rustic  seat  that  had  been  constructed  beneath 
a  vine  that  grew  near  the  garden-stile  of  the  parsonage, 
she  saw  approaching  the  house  a  man  apparently  past 
middle-life,  who  had  in  his  gait  and  air  something  so  striking 
and  soldier-like  that  her  attention  was  irresistibly  drawn 
towards  him.  He  came  up  to  the  stile,  and,  seating  him 
self  upon  it,  sat  for  several  minutes  with  his  eye  fixed  upon 
the  ground,  and  his  face  turned  in  the  direction  most  favour 
able  to  afford  the  young  lady  a  full  view  of  his  very  express 
ive  features.  He  then  started  up  suddenly,  looked  wistfully 
at  the  house,  and,  stepping  down  from  the  stile,  passed 
leisurely  around  the  wing  of  the  parsonage  that  projected 
into  the  garden,  and  was  soon  out  of  sight.  Miss  Wil 
loughby  immediately  repaired  to  the  judge's  chamber,  and, 
after  giving  the  customary  knock,  which  her  uncle  had 
taught  her  was  the  passport  to  the  apartment,  the  door  was 
opened  by  the  regicide  himself. 

"How  now,  my  pretty  wild-flower!"  said  the  major- 
general,  smiling,  as  she  passed  through  the  small  opening 
— for  the  cautious  exile  still  held  the  door  in  his  hand — 
"How  now,  child  of  the  wilderness!  what  can  have  sent 
you  to  my  hermitage  at  this  hour?  But  stop:  there  is  a 


260  MOUNT     HOPE. 

mist  before  my  eyes,  or  the  twilight  that  still  contends 
faintly  with  the  night  tells  me  that  you  are  perplexed,  or 
have  something  to  communicate.  Speak  it  out  blithely, 
maiden,  be  it  what  it  may." 

"I  will,  general. .  As  I  sat,  but  a  moment  ago,  under  the 
vine  that  shelters  my  little  retreat  in  the  garden,  I  saw  a 
stranger  passing  through  the  orchard  and  advancing  towards 
me.  He  seated  himself  upon  the  fence,  not  half  a  dozen 
yards  from  the  arbour,  and  gave  me  a  full  view  of  a  face 
which  I  have  never  seen  before,  and  which  I  am  confident 
does  not  belong  to  Hadley.  He  soon  passed  behind  the 
shadow  of  the  house,  but  kept  his  eye  constantly  fixed  upon 
it,  until  he  was  concealed  from  view.  Thinking  that  his 
visit  might  bear  some  relation  to  your  stay  here,  I  hastened 
to  apprize  you  of  it." 

"What  rank  did  his  features  indicate?  Might  he  be  a 
gentleman?" 

"A  gentleman,  sir,  beyond  question,  and  a  man  who 
might  hold  the  highest  place  in  the  goodliest  circles.  He 
looked  and  walked  like  a  soldier  of  the  better  sort,  such  as 
I  remember  to  have  seen  at  my  father's  house,  in  my  early 
childhood.  He  was  tall,  well  proportioned,  though  rather 
slender,  and  his  walk  more  graceful  than  I  have  ever  before 
seen.  As  he  seated  himself,  he  took  off  his  broad-brimmed 
hat  to  fan  his  face,  after  his  exercise,  and  gave  me  a  view 
of  his  features." 

"Was  the  head  small,  with  jet-black  hair  dashed  with 
gray,  curling  about  a  high,  slender  forehead  ?"  asked  Goffe, 
with  increasing  interest. 

"  It  was,  and  of  the  palest  hue,  I  am  sure,  that  was  ever 
worn  by  living  man.  Had  not  the  expression  of  the  lips 
been  contemplative  and  sweet  as  that  of  the  picture  of  the 
saint  which  hung  in  my  father's  library,  I  should  have 
almost  shuddered  at  its  marble  whiteness." 


MOUNT     HOPE.  261 

"  Did  he  bear  arms  ?" 

"Yes — a  sword  and  pistols." 

GofFe  stood  a  moment  musingly,  and  then  said,  half  doubt- 
ingly,  half  interrogatively — "I  suppose  the  day-light  was 
so  far  spent,  that  thou  couldst  not  distinguish  the  colour 
and  expression  of  his  eyes?" 

"Oh,  no! — the  evening  was  so  clear,  and  the  twilight 
lingered  so  long,  that,  had  it  been  noon,  I  could  not  have 
noted  his  features  better.  His  eyes  were  gray,  and  filled 
with  an  expression  calm  and  hushed  as  the  hour." 

"  The  portraiture  is  perfect,"  said  GofFe ;  "  and  yet  I  can 
hardly  think  the  man  who  seems  to  have  sat  for  it  would 
have  ever  ventured  out,  save  under  cover  of  darkness." 

Scarcely  had  he  spoken,  when  a  slight  sound  was  heard 
in  the  closet  adjoining  the  chamber. 

"  Somebody  is  lifting  the  trap-door  that  leads  from  the 
cellar,"  said  the  general,  at  the  same  time  taking  a  pistol 
from  the  table,  and  cocking  it.  Miss  Willoughby  listened. 
In  a  moment,  the  door  was  let  gently  down,  and  she  heard 
a  step,  and  then  a  noise,  as  that  of  a  man  groping  his  way 
with  his  hands  along  the  wainscoting.  She  looked  at  GofFe, 
to  see  if  she  could  gather  from  his  countenance  aught  of 
what  was  to  be  hoped  or  feared  from  the  visiter,  but  the 
panels  of  oak  that  walled  them  in  could  not  have  been  more 
impassive,  had  they  been  invoked  to  reveal  a  secret. 

A  knock  followed — such  a  knock  as  none  save  those  who 
had  been  initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  the  secret  chamber 
could  have  given. 

Placing  his  lips  to  the  very  surface  of  the  wainscot, 
GofFe  inquired,  in  a  suppressed  voice,  "Who  waits  there?" 

"  A  wanderer,"  was  the  answer  from  the  closet. 

"Your  name  and  business,  sir  wanderer?" 

"James  Davids." 


262  MOUNT     HOPE. 

Goffe  undid  the  fastening  of  the  door,  and  the  tall  stranger, 
whose  personal  appearance  had  made  such  an  impression 
on  the  mind  of  the  young  lady,  now  entered  the  room. 
But  a  stranger  he  evidently  was  not  to  Goffe;  for  they 
embraced  each  other  affectionately,  and  the  visiter  cast  an 
anxious  glance  towards  the  bed  where  Whalley  had  lan 
guished  and  died  ;  and  then  fixed  his  eyes  inquiringly  upon 
Goffe,  as  if  waiting  to  be  informed  of  what  he  could  not  find 
the  heart  to  ask. 

"  I  need  hardly  tell  you,  Dixwell — for  I  see  by  the  token 
in  your  eye  that  you  have  anticipated  the  tidings — thai 
Whalley  is  an  exile  no  more." 

"  I  saw  it  all,  in  the  vacant  bed — in  the  hushed  chambel 
— in  your  own  silence." 

He  would  have  proceeded,  had  not  the  entrance  of 
William  given  a  new  turn  to  the  conversation. 

"You  see  that  I  have  forestalled  you,  Colonel  Dixwell," 
said  the  privateer,  archly,  "and  that  my  name  is  already 
made  known  to  more  than  one,  without  your  consent.  But 
it  was  not  my  fault — my  father  is  to  bear  the  blame.  Miss 
Willoughby,  you  see  in  our  midst  the  gentleman  who  once 
extorted  from  me  a  vow  that  baffled  the  most  earnest 
inquiries." 

"  The  name  of  Willoughby  is  a  sure  pledge  that  its  pos 
sessor  will  disclose  no  secrets  that  implicate  the  fortunes  of 
brave  and  exiled  men,"  said  Colonel  Dixwell,  in  a  tone  and 
with  a  smile  that  sank  like  music  to  the  heart  of  the  person 
addressed,  and  made  her  feel  as  if  they  had  been  on  terms 
of  intimacy  for  years. 

Goffe  then  recounted  to  his  guest  the  family  history  of 
Miss  Willoughby,  and  the  circumstances  that  had  led  to 
the  meeting  between  himself  and  his  son  ;  into  all  of  which 
Dixwell  entered  with  such  deep,  unaffected  interest  as  it 


MOUNT     HOPE.  263 

might  be  supposed  a  father  would  have  taken  in  the  minutest 
details  of  whatever  his  own  children  had  suffered  or  enjoyed 
during  the  interval  of  a  long  separation  from  him.  His 
manner  had  in  it  nothing  of  the  fiery  impetuosity  of  Goffe, 
nor  any  of  that  despondency  that  often  seemed  to  weigh 
down  the  spirit  of  his  fellow-exile.  On  the  other  hand,  he 
was  calm,  equable,  and  self-possessed,  to  a  remarkable 
degree.  Every  thing  about  Dixwell — his  look,  his  tone, 
his  manner — was  intellectual.  With  this  was  blended  an 
indescribable  dignity  of  manner,  that  never  forsook  him  for 
a  moment.  He  was  one  of  the  few  men  who  can  say  even 
trifling  things  in  a  manner  that  increases  rather  than  de 
tracts  from  the  veneration  that  we  feel  for  their  characters. 

On  the  present  occasion  he  seemed  in  the  highest  spirits, 
and  desirous  of  contributing  to  the  happiness  of  the  little 
circle  in  every  possible  way,  until  Goffe  took  advantage  of 
a  pause  in  the  conversation  to  allude  to  the  expected  arrival 
of  Randolph,  and  the  persecutions  that  might  be  antici 
pated  from  such  an  event.  Dixwell  had  as  yet  alluded  to 
nothing  that  might  have  led  an  indifferent  spectator  to  sup 
pose  that  he  had  visited  the  parsonage  with  any  specific 
errand,  or  with  any  other  design  than  to  renew  his  acquaint 
ance  with  an  old  friend.  But  no  sooner  had  Goffe  touched 
upon  this  subject,  than  he  turned  his  eye  full  upon  the  old 
man,  and  said,  with  much  emotion,  "  General  Goffe,  it  is 
now  time  to  canvass  graver  matters.  Whatever  is  to  be 
done  to  secure  the  living  from  the  block,  or  the  dead  from 
dishonour,  must  be  done  now.  The  falcon  is  poised  upon 
the  wing.  Edward  Randolph  is  in  Boston!" 

Goffe  started  to  his  feet,  at  this  announcement,  as  if 
stung  by  a  scorpion ;  but  before  he  could  give  utterance  to 
the  thoughts  that  crowded  upon  his  mind,  Dixwell  went  on : 

"  Pardon  me,  general,  and  excuse  me  for  saying,  that  the 


264  MOUNT     HOPE. 

crisis  calls  for  all  the  firmness  which  was  wont  in  the  dark 
est  hours  of  the  republic  to  characterize  your  mind." 

Goffe  interrupted  him  :  "  What  is  to  be  done,  Dixwell  ? 
for  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  feel  that  my  resources  fail  me, 
and  that  I  am  in  mind,  as  well  as  in  person,  but  too  obvi 
ously  growing  old." 

"Nothing  can  be  plainer  than  your  course,"  replied 
Dixwell,  calmly.  "You  remember  that  the  secret  of  your 
residence  in  America  was  committed  to  the  Rev.  John 
Sherman  while  you  were  secreted  at  Milford,  and  that  he 
had  frequent  intercourse  with  you,  and  made  liberal  dona 
tions  both  to  you  and  me,  when  we  were  in  straitened 
circumstances,  until  the  day  of  his  death.  A  short  time 
before  he  died,  fearing  lest  we  should  need  a  friend  in  our 
extremity,  he  communicated  to  one  of  his  sons,  who  is  a 
young  physician  of  great  promise,  whatever  he  knew  of  our 
condition.  He  also  addressed  to  me  a  letter,  informing  me 
of  what  he  had  done,  and  enjoining  upon  me  to  resort  to  his 
son,  should  an  opportunity  occur  in  which  he  could  be 
useful  to  me.  He  resides  near  Milford,  your  old  hiding- 
place,  in  a  spot  so  retired,  that  there  we  can  safely  hide 
from  the  most  active  pursuit,  until  the  danger  is  over.  I 
have  already  informed  Sherman  of  the  arrival  of  our  bitter 
est  enemy,  and  he  has  furnished  me  with  a  small  company 
of  Indians,  who  will  conduct  us  through  the  woods  in  safety 
to  his  house.  From  thence  we  can  seek  out  your  old  haunts 
at  Milford,  or,  if  it  is  then  deemed  safe  to  do  so,  you  can 
share  my  retirement  at  New  Haven.  While  there  you 
will  be  under  the  protection  of  a  friend  who  will  die,  rather 
than  betray  you.  You  will  also  avoid  the  more  frequented 
road  to  Hartford,  which  Randolph  will  be  most  likely  to 
take,  when  he  has  learned  that  you  have  fled  from  Hadley." 

"  But  how  is  Randolph  to  know  that  I  am  secreted  in 
Hadley  ?"  asked  Goffe. 


MOUNT     HOPE.  265 

"I  know,  from  good  authority,  that  it  is  his  intention  to 
search  this  place,"  replied  Dixwell,  "  and  that  he  has  been 
heard  to  say,  that  he  has  good  reason  to  believe  that  you 
are  concealed  under  this  roof.  I  repeat,  that  there  is  no 
time  to  be  lost." 

"  And  what  is  to  be  done  with  the  ashes  of  the  dead  ? — 
No,  Dixwell;  I  cannot,  I  will  not  desert  them;  I  have 
sworn  it." 

Nor  need  you,  general.  It  is  no  sacrilege  to  remove 
these  ashes  with  reverent  hands,  to  save  them  from  the 
horrible  desecration  to  which  they  are  exposed  while  they 
remain  here.  The  party  of  Indians  furnished  me  by  my 
young  friend,  now  wait  by  the  river  side,  ready  to  guide  us, 
while  they  at  the  same  time  carry  and  protect  the  dead." 

"  It  shall  be  even  as  you  say,"  said  Goffe,  composedly ; 
"I  was  not  wont  to  be  a  laggard  in  counsel,  Dixwell;  but 
the  memories  of  the  past  had  swept  over  my  mind  like  a 
tempest.  It  is  over  now.  William  and  you,  my  sweet 
Anne,  shall  go  along  with  us,  and  assist  in  performing  these 
second  obsequies.  I  will  never  more  be  separated  from 
my  children." 

"Nor  shall  you,"  said  William,  warmly.  "I  know  this 
Sherman,  father ;  he  is  my  friend ;  and  I  can  add  my  testi 
mony  to  Colonel  DixwelPs,  that  we  can  rely  with  equal 
confidence  on  his  fidelity  and  coolness  of  judgment." 

"  Let  us  make  ready,  then,  for  our  departure ;  by  mid 
night  our  arrangements  will  be  complete,"  replied  Goffe. 

It  is  needless  to  pause  over  the  preparations  for  the 
departure  that  occupied  the  little  party  for  the  next  three 
hours.  We  will  anticipate  their  painful  journey,  for  the 
sake  of  introducing  the  reader  to  a  scene  of  domestic 
happiness,  such  as  lent  in  those  early  days  their  sweetest 
charm  to  the  wild  woods  of  America. 

23 


266  M  0  t>ISr  T     HOPE 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 


41  Alas !  't  was  not  the  eyrie's  sound ; 
Their  bloody  bands  had  tracked  us  out ; 
Up-listeiiing  starts  our  couchant  hound!" 

O'Connor's  Child. 


ON  the  eastern  bank  of  the  Hooestonnuc,  where  its  waters 
mingled  with  the  sea,  stood  a  neat-looking  cottage,  so  envi 
roned  with  fruit-trees  and  vines,  that  the  rich  clearing  of  an 
hundred  acres  which  surrounded  it  was  almost  hidden  from 
view.  Even  the  waters  of  the  river  in  the  distance  were 
scarcely  seen  to  tremble  in  the  light  of  the  moon  through 
the  wilderness  of  leaves. 

It  was  past  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening ;  and,  seated  around 
a  small  deal-table,  that  accorded  well  with  the  simplicity  of 
pioneer  life,  sat  a  family  group — a  mother,  two  sons,  the  one 
eight  and  the  other  six  years  of  age,  and  a  little  daughter, 
whose  light  blue  eyes  could  not  have  reflected  the  sunshine 
of  more  than  two  summers.  The  mother's  eyes,  too,  were 
blue,  with  hair  of  a  much  darker  shade ;  her  face  was 
eminently  handsome,  but  thoughtful,  and  her  complexion 
had  little  of  the  ruddy  hue  peculiar  to  the  north.  Her 
fingers  were  busily  employed  upon  one  of  those  elaborate 
pieces  of  needle-work  that  furnished  occupation  at  that 
period  for  the  leisure  hours  of  the  ladies  of  the  better  classes ; 
but  occasionally  she  interrupted  the  elder  boy,  who  was 
reading  aloud  from  a  volume  containing  a  collection  of  the 
old  English  ballads,  with  "Hush,  Margaret!  for  shame, 
child !"  as  the  mischievous  prattler  at  her  knee  crushed  up 


MOUNT     H  O  T  E  .  207 

in  her  little  fingers  the  sampler,  which  she  had  succeeded 
in  snatching  from  her  mother's  hands.  The  smaller  boy, 
meanwhile,  was  seated  on  the  floor  behind  her,  busily 
engaged  in  sticking  a  needle,  which  he  had  probably  stolen 
from  the  same  owner,  through  the  skull  of  a  skeleton,  which 
was  represented  in  all  its  horrors  upon  the  page  of  a  book 
of  anatomical  plates,  that  lay  open  upon  the  floor  before  him. 

The  door  opened  noiselessly,  and  the  host,  a  gentleman 
who  could  scarcely  have  been  thirty  years  of  age,  entered 
the  room  on  tiptoe,  and  stooped  slyly  over  the  delinquent 
boy.  "How  is  this,  my  son?"  said  he,  in  a  tone  gentle  as 
that  of  a  father  could  well  be,  though  it  caused  the  guilty 
urchin  to  start  aside  and  close  the  book,  as  if  caught  in  the 
commission  of  a  crime  punishable  with  death.  "  How  is  this, 
John  ?  Look  at  him,  Elizabeth ;  his  zeal  for  the  sciences  is 
likely  to  outstrip  his  father's  slender  means  of  gratifying  it." 

The  wife  and  mother,  thus  appealed  to,  tried  in  vain  to 
suppress  a  smile  that  might  encourage  a  repetition  of  the 
offence,  as  she  replied,  "I  did  not  know  that  he  had  the 
plates.  He  gives  me  more  trouble  in  seeing  after  him  than 
both  the  others.  But  there  is  some  excuse  for  him,  after 
all.  He  was  christened  after  his  grandfather,  who  was 
devoted  to  the  sciences,  and  his  father  is  a  physician.  But 
it  is  full  time  they  were  all  asleep." 

"Yes,  Elizabeth ;  it  is  full  time,  indeed,  and  I  have  more 
motive  than  usual  to  dispense  with  their  company  to-night 
at  an  early  hour."  So  saying,  he  kissed  them  affectionately 
in  the  order  of  their  ages  respectively,  as  they  retired. 
When  the  lady  returned,  Sherman  resumed  :  "  I  am  afraid, 
my  dear,  I  shall  have  little  repose  to-night.  There  are 
some  business  affairs  pressing  upon  my  mind  which  must 
be  disposed  of  before  I  sleep." 

"Business,  Henry?  what  can  it  be?     I  hope  it  is  nothing 


268  MOUNT     HOPE. 

that  relates  to  this  troublesome  war.  If  you  knew  how 
much  I  have  already  suffered  during  your  absence " 

"No,  Elizabeth;  the  war  is  ended,  and,  I  hope,  never  to 
be  renewed ;  but  I  expect  guests  to-night,  by  appointment, 
and  it  is  time  they  were  here  already." 

"  Guests ! — what  guests  ?  I  have  not  heard  a  word  of  it 
until  now." 

Before  Sherman  had  time  to  answer  her  question,  foot 
steps  were  heard  without,  and  then  a  low  tap  at  the  door. 
He  arose,  and  opened  it.  As  he  did  so,  a  large  blood-hound 
rushed  into  the  room,  followed  by  Dixwell,  Goffe,  and  Miss 
Willoughby,  leaning  upon  the  arm  of  William.  The  elder 
gentlemen  bowed  respectfully  to  Mrs.  Sherman,  and  Dix 
well  pressed  the  hand  of  Sherman  in  silence. 

Goffe  and  Dixwell  were  introduced  to  the  lady  of  the 
house  as  Mr.  Goldsmith  and  Mr.  Davids. 

Between  Sherman  and  the  privateer  the  meeting  was  most 
cordial,  and  Miss  Willoughby  was  soon  happily  engaged  in 
conversation  with  her  new  female  friend,  who,  as  she  saw 
at  a  glance,  could  not  fail  to  prove  a  kind  and  agreeable 
companion. 

"Is  this  your  whole  party,  Mr.  Davids?"  inquired  Sher 
man,  turning  to  Dixwell ;  "  I  thought  there  was  another  still 
who  was  to  share  my  poor  hospitality." 

"There  was  another,  sir,"  said  Goffe ;  "there  was  indeed 
another  ;  but,  thank  God,  he  is  safely  bestowed !" 

"But  where  are  your  horses,  Mr.  Goldsmith?" 

"  We  have  but  a  single  steed,  which  served  to  carry  the 
young  lady.  Our  retinue  is  small,  doctor.  Beggars  have 
but  slender  retinue,  and  little  equipage." 

"Did  you,  then,  walk  the  whole  distance  from  your 
former  rendezvous  to  this  place,  and  in  so  brief  a  space  of 
time?" 


MOUNT     HOPE.  269 

"  Walk !  I  did  indeed.  Why  should  I  not?  I  have  seen 
too  much  of  rough  service,  to  mind  the  free  use  of  my 
limbs.  But,  not  to  speak  of  myself,  I  understand  that  you 
are  the  son  of  an  old  benefactor  of  mine,  the  Rev.  John 
Sherman,  late  of  Massachusetts,  but  in  earlier  days  a  some 
time  resident  of  Milford.  May  I  ask  if  you  are  the  offspring 
of  the  first  or  second  marriage  ?" 

"  Of  the  second :  my  mother's  name  was " 

"Mary  Launce,"  said  Goffe,  interrupting  him;  "I  knew 
her  father  well.  He  was  a  member  of  parliament,  and 
slain  in  an  unfortunate  quarrel  with  a  malignant.  His 
wife,  your  grandmother,  was  daughter  of  the  Lord  Darcy, 
Earl  of  Rivers — a  family  among  the  most  ancient  and  hon 
ourable  in  England.  I  knew  his  lordship  well ;  his  worth 
arid  virtues  reflect  more  honour  upon  his  name  than  all  the 
titles  that  grace  the  lineage  of  the  Darcys.  I  love  to  dwell 
on  these  old  reminiscences.  They  are  my  best  landmarks 
as  I  look  back  over  the  waste  of  years." 

Just  at  this  moment,  the  hound,  that  had  stretched  him 
self  across  the  door,  started  up  suddenly,  placed  his  nose  to 
the  door,  and  gave  a  deep,  gruff  growl.  Goffe  drew  his 
sword,  and  examined  the  priming  of  his  pistols.  The  other 
gentlemen  also  placed  themselves  in  an  attitude  of  defence. 
The  younger  Goffe,  who  seemed  to  know  more  of  the  habits 
of  the  animal  than  the  others,  advanced  towards  the  door,  and 
listened,  but  could  hear  no  sound  indicating  the  approach 
of  an  enemy.  Still,  the  dog  continued  to  growl,  scratching 
the  panels  of  the  door  with  his  paws,  and  looking  in  his 
master's  face  earnestly,  as  if  supplicating  him  to  open  it. 
"Pedro  is  right,  gentlemen;  there  is  work  for  us  in  hand." 

Sherman  motioned  the  ladies  to  retire  to  a  place  of  safety ; 
and  had  just  finished  bolting  the  door,  and  fastening  the 
shutters  of  the  windows,  when  footsteps  were  distinctly 
23* 


270  MOUNT     HOPE. 

heard  advancing  toward  the  house.  GofFe  now  placed  his 
ear  close  to  the  shutter,  and  was  the  first  to  hear  a  rustling 
among  the  pines,  as  of  men  running  to  escape  pursuit. 

"As  I  live,  William,"  said  he  to  his  son,  "the  Indians 
have  left  their  charge,  and  fled.  We  are  discovered !  It 
is  discovered !" 

At  that  instant  a  sound,  as  of  some  hollow  substance 
struck  with  sudden  violence,  startled  their  ears,  accompa 
nied  with  the  words, 

"Dead — for  a  ducat!  We  have  a  hurdle  and  a  gallows- 
tree  for  thee  at  Tyburn,  old  boy !"  distinctly  uttered  in  a 
voice  familiar  to  at  least  two  of  the  party. 

GofFe  turned,  and  whispered,  "  It  is  Randolph ;"  and  was 
proceeding  to  undo  the  fastening  of  the  door  when  Dixwell 
placed  his  hand  over  the  bolt,  and  said,  in  a  whisper, 

"General,  you  forget  yourself.     Tarry  an  instant." 

GofFe  grasped  his  sword  still  more  firmly  in  his  hand, 
and  remained  passive  for  a  moment,  when  the  door  was 
struck  from  without,  as  if  with  the  hilt  of  a  sword. 

"Open  the  way  for  us  who  are  on  the  king's  business!" 
said  the  same  voice  from  without. 

The  elder  regicide,  perceiving  that  they  were  discovered, 
and  stung  with  the  thought  of  the  indignity  offered  to  the 
remains  of  his  friend,  replied  to  the  summons, 

"  We  have  no  king  save  him  who  sitteth  on  the  great 
white  throne.  I  know  thee  well,  caitiff:  thou  art  the  min 
ion  of  the  son  of  the  man,  Charles  Stuart ;  I  have  dealt 
with  that  man,  Stuart,  ere  now.  Not  many  months  ago,  I 
dealt  with  thee.  Must  I  medicine  thee  by  more  blood 
letting  ?  Have  at  thee  then  !"  And  he  removed  the  bolt  as 
he  spoke,  and,  opening  wide  the  door,  crossed  blades  with 
Randolph  on  the  very  threshold. — The  assailing  party  was 
made  up  of  about  a  dozen  Englishmen  and  nearly  the  samo 


MOUNT     HOPE.  271 

number  of  Indians ;  but  when  they  saw  that  the  regicide 
was  backed  by  three  well-armed  assistants,  and  that  they 
rushed  upon  them  with  the  air  of  men  who  were  well 
skilled  in  the  use  of  weapons,  and  even  confident  of  repel- 
ling  their  attack,  they  retreated  behind  their  leader.  This 
conduct  of  his  men  threw  Randolph  into  a  paroxysm  of  fury. 

"Turn,  ye  knaves!"  said  he;  "shoot  them  down,  if  ye 
dare  not  come  at  them  with  steel  blades!" 

His  hint  was  immediately  acted  upon  by  both  parties. 
Dixwell  and  his  two  younger  allies  discharged  each  a 
pistol  almost  in  the  same  breath  with  fatal  effect.  Sher 
man  was  wounded  in  the  shoulder  by  a  pistol-ball,  but  not 
disabled.  Although  three  of  their  number  were  slain,  and 
Pedro  was  in  the  act  of  pulling  down  a  fourth,  the  assail 
ants  now  rallied,  and  surrounded  their  antagonists  with  the 
intention  of  overpowering  them  with  numbers.  But  four 
practised  swordsmen  are  not  easily  crushed  by  thrice  their 
number  of  less-experienced  men.  Besides,  Randolph,  as 
on  a  former  occasion,  had  now  lost  all  self-control,  and 
dealt  his  blows  so  much  at  random,  that  Goffe  seemed  likely 
to  prove  an  overmatch  for  him ;  when  two  Englishmen, 
who  had  not  before  mingled  in  the  melee,  came  hastily  from 
the  thicket,  and  rushed  upon  Goffe  with  the  intention  of 
running  him  through  the  body,  while  he  was  in  the  act  of 
parrying  one  of  Randolph's  desperate  thrusts.  But,  quick 
as  thought,  Ashford  passing  between  the  new  assailants 
and  his  father,  dashed  aside  their  weapons,  and  met  Ran 
dolph  face  to  face. 

The  moon  shone  with  such  brilliancy  that  the  whole 
field  was  visible  as  in  the  open  day. 

In  his  struggle  with  Goffe,  Randolph's  cap  had  fallen 
from  his  head,  and  his  black  curly  hair  gave  additional 
ferocity  to  features  and  eyes  that  reflected  all  the  darker 


272  MOUNT     HOPE. 

passions  of  his  soul.  Ashford  had  crossed  his  path  when 
he  first  landed  in  America — he  had  thwarted  his  designs 
upon  Miss  Willoughby — and  was  now  standing  between 
him  and  the  consummation  of  all  his  ambitious  schemes, 
by  affording  protection  to  the  regicides.  As  Randolph 
looked  upon  him,  ambition  gave  place  to  revenge,  and  he 
felt  an  irrepressible  joy  that  chance  had  thus  thrown  his 
bitterest  enemy  in  his  way. 

"Base  braggart!"  exclaimed  Ashford,  advancing  toward 
him,  "  there  is  an  account  to  be  settled  between  thee  and 
me.  Dost  thou  remember  the  hill-side,  below  the  fort  at 
Boston,  down  which  I  rolled  that  body  of  thine  to  the  very 
line  of  foam  left  by  the  retreating  tide !  dost  thou  remem 
ber  how  from  very  pity  I  spared  thy  life  ?  Little  didst  thou 
know,  villain,  that  the  man  from  whose  lips  thou  soughtest 
to  wrest  the  secrets  of  the  regicide,  was  the  son  of  the 
regicide !" 

"And  did  I  not  repay  thee  well  for  thine  insolence, 
pirate?"  returned  Randolph.  "Did  I  not  give  thee  oppor 
tunity  to  pursue  that  pretty  damoiselle  of  thine,  the  bird  of 
the  delicate  feathers,  through  many  a  wood,  and  across 
many  a  stream?  Her  wings  must  have  drooped  sadly 
beneath  the  Narraganset  snows.  But  hark'ee,  boy !  when 
I  have  dealt  with  thee,  she  shall  fold  those  wings  submis 
sively  upon  this  breast  of  mine,  or — mark  me ! — I  will  clip 
them  with  my  rapier.  What,  ho!"  he  exclaimed,  raising 
his  voice,  "  Thomas  Kellond — Thomas  Kirk !  why  stand 
ye  at  bay  with  yon  hoary-headed  traitor!  Ye  shall  bruise 
the  head  of  the  cockatrice,  while  I  crush  the  egg. 

"He  had  scarcely  time  to  raise  his  sword  to  save  his 
throat  from  the  point  of  Ashford's  blade,  so  sudden,  so 
deadly  was  the  attack  of  the  privateer. 

Kirk  and  Kellond,  meanwhile,  on  either  side  of  Goffe, 


MOUNT     HOPE.  273 

dealt  their  blows  at  the  most  vital  parts  of  his  body,  every 
one  of  which  must  have  inflicted  a  mortal  wound,  had  it 
not  been  warded  off  with  unrivalled  dexterity.  It  was  not 
until  Dixwell  had  come  to  his  relief,  and  engaged  with 
Kirk,  that  GofFe  relinquished  his  defensive  attitude ;  and 
then  his  long  arm  and  keen  blade  gave  Kellond,  who  was 
much  younger  and  of  nearly  equal  stature,  full  employ 
ment  for  all  his  skill  and  address  as  a  swordsman.  From 
the  fierceness  with  which  he  fought,  it  was  obvious  that 
GofFe  intended  to  take  the  life  of  his  antagonist. 

The  vindictive  Randolph  had  already  resolved  upon 
getting  possession  of  the  person  of  Miss  Willoughby,  and 
of  the  house  at  the  same  moment,  and  with  this  view  he 
suffered  Ashford  to  drive  him  gradually  towards  the  door, 
only  warding  off  the  strokes  of  his  pursuer.  It  was  not 
until  Ashford  saw  two  or  three  of  the  Englishmen  passing 
around  the  house,  that  the  thought  flashed  upon  his  mind. 
He  sprang  forward  to  grapple  with  Randolph,  but  he  escaped 
from  his  hands  with  a  bound,  and  in  an  instant  Ashford 
heard  the  creaking  of  the  bolt  of  the  door,  as  it  was  forced 
into  its  socket.  Instantly  passing  around  the  house,  he 
discharged  a  pistol  at  the  Englishman  who  was  climbing 
into  the  window,  which  Randolph  had  opened  from  within. 
The  ball  took  fatal  effect,  and  the  other  Englishmen, 
astonished  at  his  sudden  appearance,  retreated  a  few  steps, 
and  gave  Ashford  free  access  to  the  window.  He  tore 
away  from  it  the  body  of  the  man  whom  he  had  just  shot, 
and  sprang  through  the  narrow  opening  just  as  Randolph 
had  come  up  to  it  with  his  left  arm  around  the  waist  of 
Miss  Willoughby,  and  a  pistol  in  his  right  hand,  which  he 
pointed  and  discharged  at  Ashford's  breast.  The  ball 
passed  through  his  coat  and  waistcoat,  but  inflicted  no 
injury.  Cumbered  with  the  weight  of  his  prize,  which  he 


274  MOUNT     HOPE. 

seemed  determined  not  to  relinquish,  and  not  having  anti 
cipated  the  possibility  of  missing  his  aim,  Randolph  made 
but  a  feeble  resistance.  Ashford  sprang  upon  him,  and 
struck  him  a  severe  blow  upon  the  forehead  with  the  hilt 
of  his  sword.  He  staggered  and  fell,  still  retaining  his 
hold  of  the  young  lady. 

To  disengage  the  wretch's  arm  from  her  waist,  and  to 
run  him  through  the  body  with  the  point  of  the  weapon 
that  had  struck  him  down,  was  the  work  of  a  moment.  He 
then  raised  the  apparently  lifeless  body,  and,  throwing  it 
from  the  window  upon  the  ground,  leaped  after  it  into  the 
open  air.  Passing  around  the  house  to  the  place  where  he 
had  left  the  other  combatants,  he  saw  Goffe  stooping  over 
Sherman,  who  appeared  to  be  insensible,  with  great  apparent 
anxiety.  Kellond  lay  dead  within  a  few  feet  of  the  spot 
where  he  stood,  and  Kirk,  lying  upon  his  side,  was  soliciting 
the  mercy  of  Dixwell  in  the  most  earnest  terms. 

"Dost  thou  repent,  then,  of  thy  folly?"  asked  Dixwell. 

"Ay — ay — I  do  repent." 

"Wilt  thou  ever  again  hunt  the  steps  of  the  judges  of 
the  Stuart?  Answer  me,  as  thou  lovest  dear  life!"  con- 
tinned  Dixwell,  at  the  same  time  bringing  the  point  of  his 
sword  to  the  throat  of  the  supplicant. 

"  Never — never  /" 

"Nor  betray  them?" 

"  No — never." 

"Then  go,  in  God's  name." 

Ashford  now  learned  of  Goffe  that  Sherman  had  been 
stunned  by  a  blow  from  one  of  the  Englishmen,  and  would 
soon  revive. 

"And  where  is  Randolph?"  asked  GofTe,  anxiously; 
"hath  he  escaped  thee,  William?" 

"The  pirate  is  avenged,"  replied  Ashford,  smiling. 

"Let  us  recommence  our  march  to-nifHit,  my  son." 


MOUNT     HOPE.  275 

"You  speak  good  counsel,"  said  Dixwell.  "But  how 
shall  we  leave  Sherman,  wounded,  and  in  charge  of  a  help 
less  family?" 

" Go,  by  all  means,"  said  Sherman,  starting  up ;  "I  can 
take  measures  to  protect  me  and  mine.  Go,  while  you  are 
under  cover  of  darkness." 

Miss  Willoughby  was  soon  ready  to  pursue  her  journey, 
and  the  Indians,  who  had  acted  as  pall-bearers,  and  who 
had  returned  to  their  place  the  moment  Randolph's  party 
had  withdrawn,  expressed  their  willingness  to  set  forth 
immediately. 

They  arrived  at  New  Haven  on  the  following  morning, 
before  day-break ;  and  there,  near  the  church  that  had  been 
reared  under  the  fostering  care  of  the  venerable  Davenport, 
they  again,  and  under  more  favourable  auspices,  committed 
the  body  of  Whalley  to  a  resting-place,  where  we  may  hope 
it  will  slumber  till  the  day  when  the  earth,  and  the  sea  shall 
give  up  their  dead.  With  the  exception  of  Governor  Jones, 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Pierpont  (the  successor  of  Davenport),  and  the 
sexton  who  dug  the  grave,  none  of  the  citizens  knew  where 
his  remains  were  deposited,  though  they  daily  passed  by 
the  little  thicket  of  cedars  upon  the  common  that  sheltered 
the  spot.  The  sexton  indeed  treasured  up  the  secret  faith 
fully  in  his  memory,  and  told  it  in  after-years  to  his  son 
who  succeeded  him.  In  after-years,  too,  when  the  rancour 
of  party  strife  had  subsided — when  the  flames  of  loyalty 
burned  under  another  dynasty  with  a  less  malignant  fierce 
ness — a  dark-blue  stone  was  one  morning  found  at  the 
head  of  the  grave,  and  another  at  its  foot,  each  inscribed 
with  the  initials  "  E.  W" 

But  by  whose  hands  they  were  chiselled,  even  tradition, 
fruitful  as  she  has  been  in  her  legends  respecting  the  wan 
derings  and  the  fate  of  those  exiled  men.  has  never  whis 
pered  to  the  world. 


276  MOUNT     HOPE. 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 

CONCLUSION. 
u  A  ring — that  circles  in  a  life  of  happy  days." 

LITTLE  remains  to  be  added  to  a  work  that  has  already 
extended  itself  so  far  beyond  the  limits  originally  assigned 
to  it,  as  to  weary  the  patience  of  the  reader.  Yet  the 
author  cannot  lay  aside  his  pen,  without  recording  what  he 
knows  of  the  subsequent  good  or  evil  fortune  of  the  char 
acters  who  have  figured  in  this  narrative,  and  with  whom 
he  has  sojourned  so  long,  that  he  cannot  take  leave  of 
them  without  regret. 

The  younger  Goffe  and  Miss  Willoughby  remained 
during  the  winter  in  the  town  where  they  had  deposited  the 
remains  of  the  elder  of  the  regicides,  spending  their  time 
in  the  company  of  the  major-general  at  the  house  of  Colonel 
Dixwell.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Pierpont  was  a  frequent  visiter 
at  the  house,  and  Mr.  Southworth  arrived  before  the  time 
of  the  Christmas-holidays,  to  be  present  at  the  nuptials  of 
his  niece.  As  might  have  been  expected  from  the  necessity 
of  the  case,  the  wedding  was  private ;  Governor  Jones  and 
Mr.  Pierpont  (who  performed  the  ceremony)  being  the  only 
witnesses  and  guests,  aside  from  the  members  of  the  family. 
In  the  spring,  they  returned  to  the  little  village  by  the 
Haunted  Lake.  William  soon  rebuilt  the  ruined  cottage  at 
the  Bluff  upon  its  old  foundations,  still  retaining  his  name 
of  Ashford,  both  for  the  sake  of  security,  and  because  his 


MOUNT     HOPE.  27"/ 

beautiful  bride  delighted  in  the  sound  of  the  familiar  name, 
endeared  to  her  by  perils  and  the  romantic  associations  of 
first  love.  They  were  known  throughout  the  neighbour 
hood,  as  the  "  happy  family  at  the  Bluff." 

Even  Dame  Austin,  after  her  maternal  pride  had  been 
gratified  by  seeing  the  name  of  her  darling  son  Dick 
enrolled  in  the  commission  of  the  peace,  under  the  imposing 
title  of  Richard  Austin,  Esquire,  and  further  augmented 
by  often  looking  out  from  her  window,  and  recognising 
the  children  of  her  pretty  daughter-in-law  Emily,  at  play 
with  the  "little  Ashfords,"  as  she  called  them,  beneath 
the  old  oaks  that  skirted  the  cottage-garden,  was  compelled 
to  acknowledge  that  "  Mistress  Anne  was  a  great  lady  after 
all,  and  that  to  wear  a  diamond  ring  was  not  so  bad  as  it 
might  be,  provided  people  could  afford  it,  and  were  not  too 
proud  to  be  useful." 

Captain  Moseley  regularly,  once  every  autumn,  paid  a 
visit  to  his  favourite  lieutenant,  and  passed  the  "Indian 
summer"  with  him  in  hunting  and  telling  old  sea-stories 
to  the  children,  who  annually  looked  for  his  visit  with 
daily-increasing  impatience,  and  who  would  follow  him 
from  the  house  to  the  garden,  and  from  the  garden  to  the 
lake,  until,  as  he  used  to  express  it,  "the  little  privateers 
wore  his  life  out  with  their  idle  questions."  Cornelius  on 
one  occasion  accompanied  him ;  but  old  Pedro,  who  had 
taken  up  his  abode  with  Ashford  since  the  war,  met  him 
at  the  gate  with  such  demonstrations  of  a  renewal  of  their 
old  hostilities,  that  the  cautious  Dutchman  never  repeated 
the  experiment.  "I  likes  te  lieutenant,"  said  the  scape- 
gallows,  "but  Boston  is  te  place  for  a  Christian  man,  and 
te  hoond  and  te  Haunted  Lake  is  te  tuyvil  and  all  his  bad 
spirits  in  one." 

His  illustrious  companion  in  his  former  captivity,  Dame 


278  MOUNT     HOPE. 

Doolittle,  though  she  never  gave  her  cordial  consent  to  the 
union  between  Emily  and  Dick  Austin,  was  much  softened 
when  she  heard  of  Dick's  prosperity  and  thrift,  and  paid  them 
more  than  one  visit  during  the  life  of  her  faithful  servant 
Davie.  But  after  he  had  yielded  to  the  gradual  encroach 
ments  of  age,  to  such  a  degree  as  to  render  him  incapable 
of  supporting  even  her  slender  burden,  she  never  ventured 
beyond  the  enclosure  of  her  own  premises.  The  impres 
sion  made  upon  her  nerves  by  the  Indians  was  never  for 
gotten,  and  the  very  mention  of  the  name  of  Tuspaquin 
never  failed  to  call  forth  her  bitterest  invective,  and  a  full 
recital  of  the  indignities  he  had  heaped  upon  her.  She 
died  at  the  advanced  age  of  ninety-three,  in  the  unimpaired 
possession  of  her  faculties,  long  after  Pomperauge  and 
Taloola  had  fallen  an  easy  prey  to  the  implacable  Mohawks, 
and  were  sleeping  in  their  own  secluded  valley  beneath  the 
heap  of  stones  that  still  marks  their  grave. 

Randolph,  who  had  recovered  of  his  wound,  still  retained 
his  hatred  of  the  New  England  colonies,  passing  to  and  fro 
between  America  and  the  mother-country  upon  his  errands 
of  mischief,  and  never  forgetting  his  favourite  project  of 
securing  and  bringing  to  justice  the  unhappy  regicides. 
This  only  served  to  keep  their  secret  more  securely  locked 
in  the  breasts  of  their  friends,  who  knew  that  were  the 
part  which  they  had  played  in  giving  aid  and  comfort  to 
the  exiles  once  made  known,  the  punishment  accorded  by 
the  law  to  the  counsellors  and  abettors  of  high-treason, 
would  be  the  necessary  consequence.  Even  Russell  shud 
dered  when  he  learned  the  cruel  fate  of  Alicia  Lisle,  and 
although  he  lived  to  extreme  old  age,  and  died  peacefully 
in  his  own  bed,  his  secret  never  passed  his  lips. 

Mr.  Southworth  spent  a  happy  life  in  his  study  among 
his  books,  and  in  contemplating  the  happiness  of  his  darling 


MOUNT     HOPE.  279 

ward,  which  was  identified  with  his  own.  It  is  needless  to 
tell  (what  History  has  made  known  to  the  world)  with  what 
adroitness  the  gallant  Church  captured  the  gray-haired 
Anawan,  and  with  what  stoical  calmness  the  latter  died 
the  death  allotted  to  the  captive,  and  how  the  former  fell  a 
victim  to  an  untoward  accident.  Nor  need  we  relate  what 
any  one  may  read  in  the  annals  of  Connecticut,  how  Major 
Treat,  the  sturdy  old  farmer,  was  elevated  in  later  years 
to  the  rank  of  governor  in  the  colony  that  he  had  so  long 
protected ;  nor  how  the  pains  of  his  last  moments  were 
alleviated  by  the  kindness  and  skill  of  Sherman,  who,  if 
medical  aid  could  have  availed,  would  have  snatched  him 
from  the  grave. 

Dixwell,  too,  is  an  historical  character.  The  vigilance 
with  which  Sir  Edmond  Andros  pursued  him  in  after 
years ;  the  coolness  with  which  the  exile  eluded  the  pur 
suit  ;  his  philosophic  retirement  and  quiet  studies ;  his  stolen 
interviews  with  Mr.  Pierpont  in  the  garden ;  his  memorable 
will,  in  which  he  left  as  a  legacy  to  his  reverend  friend  the 
works  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  which  had  administered  to 
him  so  much  consolation  in  his  exile ;  the  happy  close  of 
his  life,  and  the  fondness  with  which  his  memory  was 
cherished,  not  only  by  the  children  of  his  old  age,  but  by 
the  community  upon  which  he  had  for  so  many  years  shed 
the  light  of  his  example ;  are  chronicled  in  the  pages  of 
history,  and  still  live  in  the  more  uncertain  annals  of  tradi 
tion.  There  seems  to  be  a  strange  similarity  between  his 
own  obsequies  and  those  of  Colonel  Whalley :  for  within 
the  last  few  months,  even  while  we  have  been  tracing  this 
humble  sketch  of  him  and  his  cciexiles,  his  ashes  have 
been  removed  by  the  hands  of  one  who  claims  kindred 
with  them,  and  deposited  beneath  a  monument  that  will 
commemorate  his  virtues  to  the  remotest  ages. 


280  MOUNT     HOPE. 

Goffe  divided  his  time  between  Russell  and  his  son  for 
two  years  after  the  death  of  his  father-in-law,  but  gradually 
the  cloud  that  had  so  long  settled  over  his  spirit,  assumed  a 
darker  hue.  He  loved  most  of  all  to  linger  about  the  old 
parsonage,  where  he  had  spent  so  many  painful  years  of 
exile,  and  where  the  associations  of  the  past  seemed  to 
take  the  strongest  hold  upon  his  memory.  Suddenly  he 
disappeared.  The  anxious  inquiries  of  his  friends  availed 
nothing,  though  they  sought  him  in  every  haunt  which  he 
had  ever  known  in  the  colonies.  He  never  returned.  His 
death,  like  his  life,  was  an  inexplicable  mystery;  and  it 
may  be  literally  said  of  him,  that  "the  place  of  his  sepulcre 
no  man  knoweth  unto  this  day." 


THE     END. 


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